


Home Sweet Home

by Maisie_top_trash



Series: Unseen - Fear Will Lose [36]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Hallucinations, Hospitalisation, OCD, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Addiction, Psychosis, Scars, Schizoaffective Disorder, Self Harm, admission, discharge, past drug abuse, psychiatric hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 95,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maisie_top_trash/pseuds/Maisie_top_trash
Summary: Unseen Fear Will Lose is a series of stories showing unseen scenes from the same universe as my main story, Fear Will Lose. In order to fully enjoy these extra bits, I recommend you go and read that first.Fear Will Lose20 year old Tyler has been in a PICU, a psychiatric intensive care unit, for 14 months following a breakdown after the death of his only friend Debby and the disappearance of his grieving boyfriend Josh. When the only two people who mattered to him were suddenly gone from his life, he spiralled into psychosis and relied on self harm, morphine and alcohol to get by, and caused immense damage not only to himself but also his family who were forced to witness his downfall.The time has finally come for him to leave the confines of the hospital and come back home, but discharge isn't as easy as it sounds.Updates posted on Tuesdays and Fridays (prolly)





	1. The Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, few things to clear up before we take the plunge
> 
> Firstly trigger warnings: I'll put them at the start of each chapter for specific incidents, but throughout there will be mild references to previous drug and alcohol abuse, suicide attempts and self harm. There will be a graphic description of self harm later on (again I'll put a TW when the time comes) and there are brief mentions of child abuse and Debby's death. If you know you're particularly senstive to an issue then this might not be the right fic for you, and if you have any questions about triggers then feel free to ask in the comments and I'll let you know if you're at risk.
> 
> Timelines: i've had a few questions about when things happen in this universe so I'll do my best to explain  
> August 2007 - the summer after they graduate high school, Debby's car accident and Josh's disappearance to Asia. Tyler's spiral starts.  
> April 2008 - Josh returns to the US but stays in California rather than Ohio, Josephs don't know he's back, Tyler is very unwell  
> July 2008 - Josh goes back to Columbus and stays with a friend. After 3 weeks he sees Tyler by chance, and Kelly insists he comes round. After that he starts seeing them more often, but Tyler is very sick and doesn't acknowledge Josh's existence  
> September 2008 - Tyler is finally admitted whilst Josh starts law school  
> November 2009 - Tyler's discharged and the main body of this fic takes place
> 
> Few phrases you might not know: In this chapter Tyler says the doctors will IM him, which is an injection given against a patient's will if they are sectioned when they're distressed and need to be medicated to calm down. A sectioned patient is one who is not deemed able to make decisions for themselves so their decisions are made for them by doctors, and they are legally forced to comply, sometimes using physical force. The only people able to take them off the section are doctors or their closest relative. If you're in hospital but not sectioned then you're known as an informal patient.
> 
> Finally, just a lil confession, there are a few anachronisms in here about stuff like phones and Instagram because I kinda forgot how much has changed in a decade, and I thought about taking it out, but then I decided it was too much fuss so please, any historians, don't come for me :// plus I'm British and we don't celebrate Thanksgiving, so I've left that out too. Ah well.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and any questions feel free to leave in the comments

“Failure to return by 16.00 is regarded as a breach of section 3 of the mental health act and the police will be called to bring the service user back to Cygnet,”  
“I understand,” Kelly said again and signed the line the suited man pointed his clipped nail to.  
“Any contraband obtained whilst on unescorted leave is in violation of Cygnet policy and will be seized upon return and will not be returned to the service user.”  
“He’s not going to bring anything back,”  
“Ma’am,”  
“I know I know,” she sighed and signed again.

“Finally, any and all incidents must be reported in full to a member of senior leadership and recorded in writing. Failure to declare any incidents will result in serious repercussions for the service user regarding future access to luxuries such as leave.”  
“That’s the last one?” Her voice unintentionally came across as excessively strained, but she was sick of signing the damn contract over and over.

“Yes. Any questions with reference to the documentation for unescorted leave?”  
“No, Larry, please, we’ve done this time and time again and never once have my baby or I broken the rules, just please, let me see him?”  
“This is his fourth event of unescorted leave during his 14 month admission, I’d hardly say it was a common occurrence Mrs Joseph.” The staff member replied bitterly, and Kelly scoffed.

“Just go and get him Larry.”  
“You know full well that visitors aren’t allowed to be left unattended on the unit Mrs Joseph. I can’t and won’t leave this room before you.” He stood up from the conference table, straightened his tie, then pulled a walkie talkie from his belt and raised it to his mouth.

“This is Mr Taylor, I need an escorted release from ward 3. Repeat, escorted release ward 3.”  
“Nurse Robinson speaking, which patient are you looking for?”  
“A Tyler R Joseph, ward 3 room 2, repeat, Joseph, 3.2,” he dolled out her son’s bedroom for over a year as though it was a coordinate on a grid, or a cell number, rather than a second home.

“On what grounds?”  
“Dr Russell has authorised a single hour of leave with the service user’s mother. She’s here to collect him.”  
“His file says here that he had an incident at 4am this morning. He’s no longer eligible for leave.” The nurse crackled over the radio and Kelly felt her stomach drop.

“Dr Russell is aware and has overruled protocol.”  
“I’d like it to be noted I disagree with this decision.”  
“Noted.” Larry barked into the device.  
“Good. I’ll bring him to you.”  
“We’re in room 1.”  
“On our way.” The woman said and he hooked the radio back onto his belt then paced back over casually.

“What happened early this morning?” Kelly got a tissue out of her purse preemptively, pulling at the crumpled fibres with her shaking fingers.  
“I haven’t been briefed on the incident.”  
“You seemed to know a lot about Dr Russell’s input.”  
“Ma’am I was told what I needed to be told in order to oversee this process. Nothing more, nothing less. If you have any concerns, I suggest you bring them up with Dr Russell in your own time, rather than cutting into your son’s leave time.”

That shut her up sharpish.

Tyler had been trying so incredibly hard to stay healthy enough to earn his hour off the unit, and the sudden guilt at the thought that she might be eating into his freedom by even a fraction of a second instantly silenced her. He was already punished enough for things he couldn’t control, she wasn’t going to add to it.

Time seemed to move slower in the strange clinical boardroom. She watched the loudly ticking clock on the far wall, and every second seemed longer than the last, but she knew she couldn’t complain about waiting for 20 minutes when her son had been waiting for 61 long weeks.

A loud buzz made her jump a little, and Larry strode across the room to the door, hitting a round button on the wall to unlock it. Anxiety made her heart pound as she stood up, nervously sliding her purse over her shoulder, and waited for Tyler to come in.

“Tyler Joseph for unescorted leave with his mother,” the nurse dressed in blue announced as she entered, but Tyler took another few seconds before he came tiptoeing in after her, shoulders hunched, head down.

She couldn’t help herself, tears already filled her lower lash line and her face screwed up in a futile attempt to hold them back. He looked so small. So small and fragile and afraid.

“Thank you nurse Robinson, you’re dismissed.” Larry said and just like that, she left. “Mr Joseph, it is my understanding that you’ve already been briefed by Dr Russell and signed the necessary paperwork to allow this leave to take place.”  
“Y-y-y-yeah,”

That’s when she noticed it. A huge bruise in the middle of his forehead, reaching up towards his hairline. Dark grey, swollen, with scabbed broken skin in the centre. His 4am incident.

“It’s currently 1500 hours, failure to return by 1600 hours will mean police involvement. Don’t be late back.”  
“We won’t be,” Kelly spoke up but Tyler kept looking at the floor. “Can we go?”  
“Do you have any questions?”  
“No,”  
“N-n-no,” Tyler stammered too, still not looking up.

“Then yes, I’ll show you out, follow me.”  
“Tyler needs a coat,” she realised, looking at his harshly scarred but bare arms on show from the regulation anti-rip t-shirt.  
“We don’t allow home clothes in the facility.”  
“Larry he’ll freeze, he needs a jacket.”  
“No,” Tyler whispered to the floor.  
“Baby I know you haven’t been out in a little while but it’s so cold, you need more layers,” she tried to convince him but he didn’t react, so she turned back to the man in power. “Larry, is there nothing you can do for us?”  
“I’m afraid the weather is out of our control ma’am,” he raised his eyebrows sarcastically and she had to resist the urge to scoff again.

“Should we go now Mrs Joseph?”  
“Yes,” Tyler murmured again and started taking small shaky but determined steps towards the other door. Kelly sighed again and repositioned her purse over her shoulder, then followed the two men down a cold and sterile corridor that reeked of bleach.

“1 hour.” Larry punched a long code into a keypad then swiped his ID card in order to unlock the final door. He held it open and offered no gesture of kindness, it was almost as if he wanted her son to fail, and with that thought she hurried to leave.

Finally the door closed, and she was alone with Tyler on the edge of the parking lot. He faced away.

“Baby?” She called out softly. “Baby, can you follow Momma over to the car?”  
“Car?!” His head shot up like a deer in headlights. “N-no,”  
“Hey hey, it’s okay, you’re okay Ty, we’re not going to get in sweetheart, I’m just going to see if there’s anything in there which you can wear to keep you warm.”

His body language screamed fear, and yet he didn’t run. She could see the fight he was putting up, how hard he was trying to stay calm, how desperate he was to stay safe, and she was proud.

“Can you try that for me baby? Walking just over there?”  
“W-where?”  
“My car, it’s parked there, blue ford.” She pointed for him, grateful for the way he watched her gesture. “If you can’t get any closer, can you manage staying here whilst I quickly run and grab you something?”  
“Don’t leave me,” He started shaking his head rapidly. “Please, pl-please,”  
“Tyler, Ty, I won’t,” Her attempts to soothe him felt futile, and his hands started picking at each other whilst his leg bounced.

“A few steps closer? It’s too cold for you to be in a short sleeved top for an hour baby. Either we go a few steps closer and find you something to wear, or we find somewhere warm to sit for your leave, a coffee shop maybe, or we go back inside.”  
“No,”  
“No I don’t want that either baby,” she smiled softly yet sadly as tears prickled in his eyes. “I know it’s a horribly difficult way to start your leave, I’m so sorry Ty,”

“Here, how about you take my jacket,” Kelly put her bag down and started to peel it off.  
“No!”  
“Tyler, you can wear this, and I’ll get something from the car. Wouldn’t it be easier to justify it to your head if we went to the car for my sake rather than yours?”  
“Yeh, but, but,” he stammered anxiously but she waited patiently.

“O-o-okay,”  
“Good boy,” a smile appeared and she passed across the thick wool coat that drowned his skinny frame as he fumbled to slide it on, silently muttering to himself in what she hoped was a pep talk opposed to the start of a psychotic event.

“Well done angel, well done. I’m sorry I’m throwing you in the deep end by making you do so many difficult things right the moment you come off the ward, but as soon as we’re properly wrapped up, we’ll go to the bench and calm down, okay? The rest of the hour will be easier I promise,”

He didn’t say anything in response, but she wasn’t expecting him to. In fact she was in awe of how vocal he’d been up that point, it was a huge improvement.

Slowly as to not overwhelm him, she began taking careful steps across the parking lot with him hovering ever so slightly behind, alert eyes darting around cautiously. She didn’t claim to understand her son’s irrational fear of vehicles, but it did make sense that he’d be afraid of something that he’d had no exposure to in over a year. Everything about his life before hospital was scary to him, and learning that they weren’t going to cause things to revert back to how they were was going to take time. Learning the parking lot was safe was going to take time.

“I’m going to unlock it and it’s going to beep twice, okay?” She warned him as she pulled out her keys then pressed the button, but he still jumped and little with a sharp in draw of breath.

Kelly didn’t know for sure that she had another coat in the car, but she knew she had a picnic blanket in the trunk and that would definitely be better than nothing. With Tyler watching on anxiously, she opened the back of the car up and moved around a box she had been meaning to take to the charity shop for days so that she could reach the rolled up plaid blanket at the back.

“What’s that?” Tyler whispered and she looked to where he pointed. A maroon hoodie.  
“Oh,” she realised what he’d noticed on the other side of the trunk, and picked it up. There was no hiding the white crest and font on the front. Columbus College Of Law. “Silly billy, he must have left it in here. Bet he’s looking all over for it,”  
“It’s his, isn’t it? Josh.” The final word was silent, tears glistening yet again.  
“Yeah, yeah it is babe,” she didn’t see the point in lying when he clearly knew the truth. “We all went bowling on Saturday, the family and him, and he probably forgot to check the trunk when we dropped him home.”

“Could.” Tyler blinked and a tear raced down his cheek. “Could I have it? Please?”  
“Sweetheart you know you’re not allowed any personal items on the ward. They’ll take it away.”  
“Just for the hour,”  
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Ty,”  
“Please,”  
“Baby I really don’t think this is going to help you,”  
“Please,”  
“Are you sure you can cope?”  
“Mom,” a second tear. “Please, I need this, please.”

“Okay.” She caved and held it out for him. With a shaking hand he nervously took it from her, then held the material close to his chest, clutching it preciously with his eyes squeezed closed.  
  
“Can you put it on sweetie? Or is that going to be too upsetting?”  
“I ca-, I, I, I can do it,” he nodded determinedly, taking a moment to work out his next course of action, then delicately putting Josh’s hoodie back down in the trunk and taking off Kelly’s long coat and handing it back to her, keeping his distance from both her and the car. She watched his goosebump-riddled scar-covered skin shaking in the cold wind and wished he could move quicker, but understood why he took his time to carefully slide the far too big hoodie on.

“Okay?”  
“Okay,” he echoed back as he pushed the hood off his recently shaven head, then clung onto the long sleeves with the ends of his fingers. Kelly hurried to put her own coat back on then picked up her purse and the blanket.

“It’s going to make a big sound, alright?”  
“Wait, wait, gimme, um, I need a sec,” her son told her, and she was more than willing to allow him a few seconds to settle himself, proud that he was speaking up about what would help.

“Ready?”  
“Yeh,”  
“Well done,” she smiled, then closed the trunk with a slam that she noticed made him jump, but thankfully didn’t seem to frighten him too much. After giving him another moment to relax, she began silently leading the way towards the bench they always sat on together in the park across the street from the unit. It was far enough away to give him a sense of freedom but close enough that she could get him back quickly if things started going down hill.

To her complete shock and utter delight, after a minute of silent strolling, Tyler’s right hand reached out and found her left hand.

It wasn’t the first time they’d held hands since he got sick, occasionally they would during meetings when the doctors were doling out his treatment plan and she wanted to support him, and once on a visit he had been teased by a passing patient and she’d grabbed his hand protectively.

But this was different. This wasn’t her reaching out for him, this was him reaching out for her. This was him touching her, voluntarily. This was incredible progress.

“I’m proud of you baby,”  
“Thanks Mom,” he whispered quietly.

Eventually they reached the gates which surrounded the locked facility, and a guard pressed a button which allowed them out a small side gate for pedestrians. She tried not to think too hard about her son living in what was essentially a prison for the mentally unstable, it took away the loving and supportive element she was looking for in his recovery. But nevertheless, the towering boundary fence was a reality he had to deal with everyday.

“Stop, look, listen,” she couldn’t help her habit of teaching road safety as they came to the curb. Her youngest, Jay, definitely still needed to have it instilled in him, however he wasn’t sure how many practical skills Tyler still possessed. She knew he needed a lot of rehabilitation to cope with the outside world, but she wasn’t exactly certain of the severity of his memory loss. All she knew was that it was quite common in psychosis recovery for large chunks to just be blocked out. At least, that was what google had told her.

“Do you want to sit down? Or should we walk a lap first?” Kelly asked as they entered the park.  
“Sit,”  
“Okay darling,” she tried to keep her voice soft and gentle so not to spook him as they made their way down the path in the empty park to a wooden bench.

Kelly didn’t want to let go of his hand, but she knew she shouldn’t tug him down, he needed time to make his own decision so she forced herself to let go, then sat down.

“One minute.” Tyler remained standing, looking at his feet and playing with the sleeves of Josh’s hoodie.  
“Take as long as you need sweetheart,” she said, hoping she wasn’t applying any pressure whilst she undid the button keeping the blanket contained, and unrolled it over her legs, immediately appreciative of the protection it offered from the chilling wind.

Once he’d managed to overcome whatever cruel reason his mind was trying to argue with to convince him the bench was unsafe, Tyler was able to join her. He didn’t immediately appear to be comfortable, sitting with an incredibly straight posture, but eventually he relaxed a little, and even pulled half of the blanket across his lap too.

“Would you like to talk today? Or is today a day for admiring the clouds?”  
“I, I, I don’t know yet,”  
“Okay baby, well you let Momma know when you know. And you can change your mind as many times as you’d like,” Kelly announced, trying not to stare at the swollen lump on his forehead but instead focus on the grass opposite them.

She hated the damn park.

Almost every visit to Cygnet over the past 14 months had been followed by a trip to the park. She’d spent hours sobbing there when Tyler was still deeply psychotic, desperate for her baby to recover. She’d spent hours sobbing there when he started to overcome the hallucinations but was instead seized by such crippling anxiety that he couldn’t even look at her. She’d spent hours sobbing there after progress meetings with his care team in which they slapped on longer and longer time frames to his admission.

After every visit she went there to calm down and ended up sobbing over the state of his mind or the state of his skin. And of course she was immensely impressed by how far he had come, but reflecting on that and how far he still had to go was a cause of yet more tears. But this time she was determined to keep them inside until his time off the ward was up. She had to be strong for him.

“I, um, weet, I, I had a weetabix for breakfast.”  
“You did? Oh well done sweetheart, that’s great.”  
“I finished it,”  
“Wow Ty, great job honey,” a genuine smile grew across her cheeks, grateful he was beginning to trust food and no longer required the tube that had haunted them for so long.

“I had weetabix too, I had mine with raspberries and blueberries and honey, and your dad put yogurt and peach on his,” she told him, knowing he loved to hear details from home but was scared to ask. “And you’ll never guess what I caught Madison doing last week,”  
“What?” He mouthed silently, still looking straight ahead.  
“She was eating a dry weetabix with strawberry jelly spread on top,”  
“Dry?”  
“Yeah! Apparently it tasted good, but I’m not convinced,” her soft laugh was quickly whipped away by the wind.

“Mom,”  
“Yeah?”  
“M-Mom,”  
“I’m listening baby,” she knew he wasn’t about to make another comment about breakfast, she could tell from the anxious shakes that he was going to say something important, she just didn’t know what Tyler regarded as important anymore.

“Mom they turned my brain into mush,” his gaze fell to his lap, then flicked up to meet hers quickly before returning to his lap. Meanwhile Kelly’s stomach dropped. The delusions were back.

“Who did Ty?”  
“The, the, the doctors,”  
“The doctors did, okay, and how did they do that?”  
“The pills,”  
“Right,” she sighed. “Baby, I know it must be difficult to talk about, quite scary I should imagine, but if you tell me everything you know then that way I can help you figure out a way to fix it. Okay?”  
“Okay.”

“How long have the doctors been trying to turn your brain into mush darling?”  
“A long, a, a, a, a long time,”  
“Okay, and how come you’ve only noticed today Ty? Or have you known for a while?”  
“I um,” his hand lifted ever so slightly, as if he was going to run it through his hair but couldn’t find the energy to reach that far. Instead he awkwardly lowered it again as his left leg bounced. “Mom, I, I think maybe I’ve b-been getting a little better recently?”  
“Mmm,”  
“Because, b-because,” he gulped. “Because now sometimes I try to think, and, even just about small things, and, a-and, so, so, but, um, uh, ah, ah, argh,”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart breathe, you’re getting yourself worked up,”  
“I just, I,” still his breaths were sharp.  
“Tyler, slower,”  
“I’m trying!” Suddenly he cried out, looking at her. “Okay? I’m trying! I tr-, I, I try to think about things, and, and I just can’t! I try, I, I, overnight I knew I was going to have a weetabix today and I tr-tried to remember what you all like on yours, but my brain, it just, Mom, all the side effects, the medicines, the chemicals, they’re just, they’re washing around in my brain and I can’t think straight! I try but I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t THINK!”

As soon as he screamed the last word, both his hands shot up to his temples and immediately began pounding on them desperately as he began crying. Kelly, initially taken aback by the outburst but quick to focus again, grabbed both his wrists and attempted to pull them from his face whilst also cuddling him close.

“Stop stop stop stop Ty, shhhh, shhh, you gotta stop for me baby, you gotta stop,”  
“M-m-mom! I can’t think stra-ai-aight,” Tyler started to sob against her chest as she clung onto him tightly, still pinning his arms down as best she could.  
“Hush, shhshhshhhhh,” she squeezed him as he broke down. “Hush lil baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Hush lil baby, don’t say a word, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird won’t sing, mama’s gonna buy you a golden ring, and if that gold ring turns to brass, mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass,”

Her quiet singing was barely audible above his hysterical pants, but she knew he was strong enough to ride out the wave of panic, she just had to hold him and keep him safe until he settled.

“If that glass begins to crack, mama’s gonna buy you a jumping jack, and if that jumping jack is broke, mama’s gonna buy you a velvet cloak.”  
“Mom I can’t, I can’t,”  
“You can baby, you’re doing so well,” her grip on one of his arms loosened a little, just enough for her to be able to slide it up and down in a soothing stroking sensation that matched her gentle sways, rocking him in a comforting way. “If that velvet cloak is corse, mama’s gonna buy you a rocking horse, and if that rocking horse won’t rock, mama’s gonna buy you a cuckoo clock,”

Tyler sobbing wasn’t new, and Tyler attacking himself wasn’t new either, but Kelly couldn’t help thinking about what had caused this particular spell. What he said, it made sense. Perhaps the notion that his brain had been turned to mush wasn’t quite so delusional, maybe it was a misinterpreted way of Tyler saying that he couldn’t find the clarity he had once had.

“Do you want me to keep going cupcake?” She whispered once his sobs turned to meek hiccups.  
“Mom,”  
“I know baby, I know, but you’re being so brave and I love you so much,”  
“I’m sorry,”  
“Don’t be sorry, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You take all the time you need to calm down.” Her voice was lower than usual, but it didn’t matter. “Do you want to get a bit more comfy? If you’re sure you can cope without my help then I’ll let go of your arms.”  
“No, no, no, no, keep them down, hold them down, please,”  
“I won’t let go Ty, do you need me to restrain you more tightly?” She was pleased he was being honest and realistic about his current mental position, but was naturally upset that he couldn’t trust his hands not to attack his face.

“Ty?”  
“Tighter.” He growled, clearly fiercely battling with his mind.  
“Okay. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” She repositioned ever so slightly, gripping firmly.

“I couldn’t remember her name,”  
“What was that baby?”  
“Madison, I, I couldn’t, um,” his voice returned to its usual anxious stuttering. “I woke up early, and uh, and, well, I, I had a nightmare, and I didn’t want to panic, so I tried to calm down by, b-by, by thinking of everyone’s w-weetabix top-topping, but I couldn’t even remember Maddy’s name.”  
“That’s okay sweetie.” She whispered back.  
“It’s not okay!”  
“Tyler.”

“I get why they give it to me, I understand, it, it’s, it’s supposed to help me, and it does help me, it does, I see that, but god Mom I can’t think straight! I can’t think!”  
“The medication, that’s what you’re talking about right?”  
“Y-Yeah,” he was violently shaking in her embrace, and she doubted it was due to the cold. He was trying to twist his way out. “The, the chemicals, they help stop some bad thoughts, but they, they stop all my other thoughts too Mom! My brain’s all foggy and I can’t, I can’t think,”

“Baby, it must be really difficult to feel like you can’t focus or find your words, but sometimes we have to make sacrifices, okay? Ty, Ty listen,” she held him down as he squirmed in discomfort or protest. “I don’t know about you, but I think a foggy brain is better than what things were like before medication.”

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,”  
“Tyler, if you don’t calm down then I’ll have to call Cygnet to send staff to escort you back.”  
“No! No no no no, they’ll IM me Mom, Mom please,”  
“Stop fighting me Ty, stop, I want to listen to you but my ultimate priority is your safety, and you are far stronger than me and I can’t hold you any tighter, so if this gets worse then I won’t be able to restrain you by myself.”

She sympathised with her son of course, but she had to look at the situation objectively, and try to strip away any emotion. She had a firm grip around both of his wrists, and both of his wrists were pulling towards his face, but most worryingly his torso was squirming and wiggling and bucking in such frantic succession that he threatened to break free of her hold.

Tyler had valid reason to be upset. She knew she’d be upset if she couldn’t sharpen her mind, but she was also fairly confident that her frustrations wouldn’t lead anywhere. Tyler on the other hand was incredibly susceptible to self destruction, evident by the huge bruise on his forehead. That injury had taken place within an environment established to prevent such an event, so she shivered to think what might happen if she lost control of the situation now.

“Tyler I promise we’ll talk about the medication and the side effects at some point, but right now you need to settle. Your main focus has to be calming down.”  
“I can do it.” He swore wholeheartedly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut but not quite able to completely control his body.  
“Breathe,”  
“I can do it.”  
“Yes you can.” She decided encouragement was the best route.

“Mom help,” Tyler slipped back into panic mode, eyes opening and alert as he hyperventilated.  
“Listen to me young man, listen. There is nothing wrong with saying you can’t cope, there is nothing wrong with saying you need to go back to the ward, there is nothing wrong with needing help to get from here to there safely. The only mistake you can make now is overestimating your abilities. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. So tell me Ty, do I need to call someone?”

Her gut instinct screamed yes. As much as she hated the strict and sometimes harsh treatment provided by Cygnet, she had to admit that the number of trips to ER had significantly dropped since they took over his care. She didn’t like any of the staff members, but she did appreciate the fact their methods worked better than hers sometimes, especially when Tyler was in crisis.

But the only person who really knew whether he could cope was Tyler. And maybe it was naive of her, but Kelly was eager to give him a say and hope that he’d be honest and trust her with the reality of his current state internally.

“I need to get up,”  
“What honey?”  
“I, I, I need you to let go Mom, I need to s-s-stand up, I, I feel all trapped, I need to shake it out,”  
“Sweetheart,” she sighed.  
“Please! I’ll be good!”  
“I don’t think-“  
“I’ll be safe, please,”  
“You just told me to not let go, I don’t think this is you talking Tyler, I think this is self destruction being mischievous and posing as you.”  
“S’me, please,” he cried.

“Tyler, if I let go and allow you to stand up, that’s me trusting you.”  
“Please,”  
“If you break my trust, and if you run, I’ll have to chase you, you know that right? I know you hate being chased, please sweetheart, don’t put either of us in that situation.”  
“I won’t,” Tyler whimpered.  
“If you abscond then I will have to tell Cygnet, and you know what that means, don’t you baby?”  
“S-sanction,”  
“Yeah, they’ll dock you of your next planned leave plus your visiting time. We won’t get to see each other for a whole month.” The thought made her want to cry a little, but she stayed strong with an iron grip around his squirming wrists.

“So I’ll ask you this once, and I want you to properly think about the answer before you give it. Are you in control enough to stay safe if I let go?” She asked, then watched the tears trickle down his face as he tried to summon an honest answer.

“I, um, I,” he gulped. “I feel clau-claustrophobic Mom, a-and, and the touching, I’m getting bad thoughts, the, the, the, the OCD bad thoughts I think, and I just, please, I need some breathing space for a m-moment. I won’t hurt myself. If I feel worse I’ll tell you, please, just, I can’t, I can’t calm down like this.”

He seemed sincere. It didn’t feel like the numerous times before, even prior to his admission, when he’d sworn he was fine and he could be trusted, only to take advantage of that trust and use it as an opportunity to do unthinkable things to himself. He seemed sincere, and his reasoning was fair. She didn’t really have any grounds to keep him pinned down, knowing that if he really wanted to he’d be able to yank himself free anyway. She had to reward his decision to seek permission, reassure him that he’d done the right thing by asking. She only hoped that it wouldn’t come back to bite her.

“Alright, but only if you keep communicating with me.”  
“Thank you thank you,” he barely waited for her to release him before he jumped to his feet, his half of the blanket falling on the ground but only briefly before she rescued it then went back to watching him closely.

She’d by lying if she said she didn’t think Tyler’s movements were, well, weird. His feet stomped, especially his left, and his arms waved around with his hands shaking almost as rapidly as his head. Whatever he was doing, trying to stop himself crying, trying to expel the anxious energy, trying to satisfy some intrusive thought, it did seem to be working. It wasn’t a quick fix, but he was definitely calmer when he eventually stopped the twitch-like jerks.

“Better?”  
“Better,” he nodded solemnly, gulping a little then crossing one hand across his chest to nervously scratch the opposite bicep through the jumper. She hoped she hadn’t caused the upset by bringing his ex’s jumper into the equation.

“Do you want to go back to Cygnet?”  
“Um,” Tyler looked into the wind, mopping his face dry with his sleeve. He took close to a minute before replying, but Kelly much preferred a considered response than a rushed one. “Could, c-could I have a hug whilst I th-think about it?”  
“Of course you can baby, of course. Standing up or sitting down?”  
“I, I, I’ll sit,”  
“Do you wanna go on my lap?”  
“May-m-maybe just there,” he shakily pointed to the spot beside her, and she smiled then lifted up the blanket again so he could slide back under. With no pressure or even hints from her, Tyler placed his head against her chest once more, then guided her hand around his shoulders in a supportively loose hug. She quickly kissed him on his head again, carefully avoiding his painful-looking bruise.

“Well done Tyler, that was a remarkable comeback and I’m so proud of you. Good job sweetheart.”  
“Thanks Mom, and uh, and, and sorry, for pulling, and for, f-for scaring you.”  
“Don’t be silly darling, you’ve got nothing to apologise for. In fact I should probably apologise for making this so difficult, what with making you go over to the car, and only having Josh’s hoodie with me, plus you holding my hand earlier and then having to restrain you. That’s a lot of triggers and I think this is the best I’ve seen you cope with them since you first got sick.”  
“I think so too,” he snuggled closer.

“How is he?”  
“Josh?” She checked, letting her hand wander up and play with his hair gently, feeling his subtle nod. “He’s good,”  
“How, um, how, how’s school going?”  
“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re well enough to talk about this? About him?”  
“I’m sure,”  
“School’s going good,”  
“Please Mom, I feel, I feel safe when I hear about him. Please,” he knew she was purposefully trying to steer the conversation towards something less risky.

“He got an A on his midterm, so we took him out for a meal to celebrate. I told him we could go anywhere he wanted, and not to worry about the price because it was on us, our treat. You know where he picked?”  
“Taco Bell?”  
“Yep,” she laughed. “The idea was to give him a break from all the takeout him and his roommates eat, but no, he insisted.”  
“S’his favourite,” Tyler whispered.  
“I know, and your Father wasn’t complaining cos he was the one who paid for it in the end.”

“Is he happy?” He asked a moment later, and Kelly paused because the route to the correct answer was a mine field. Maybe Tyler wanted nothing more than for his ex to be happy. Maybe he’d be jealous that he was happy whilst he was in the depths of depression. Maybe he’d be heartbroken that Josh could be happy without him. Maybe he’d be heartbroken if she said that Josh wasn’t happy. Maybe he needed to hear something specific, but Kelly didn’t know what, so opted for the truth.

“I think he’s feeling a little lost at the moment to be honest baby,”  
“Oh,”  
“He’s got his roommates, Jesse and Andrew, who I’ve met and know well and love dearly, but they like going out at the weekend and Josh doesn’t like drinking, so he doesn’t go with them. Then he’s got his friends at law school, who he gets on with, but he doesn’t have loads and loads of friends, especially not ones who understand what he went through with Debby.”  
“Mmm,”  
“So I suppose he’s feeling a bit lonely. He comes round to our house a couple of times a week, which I’ve got absolutely no issue with, but since Zack’s gone off to college, we’re not really your typical friends of a 21 year old guy. A couple in their mid 40s, a 15 year old girl and an 11 year old boy. We love having him round, but I do feel ever so slightly worried sometimes that he doesn’t have a good friend his own age to offload to.”

“Do you think it’s depression?”  
“I think it’s a tricky in between stage after terrible grief but before normality.” She hoped that reassured him a little. “He took some time out, and now he can’t quite figure out where he slots back in, but I have complete faith that he’ll work it out eventually.”

“Is there anything I can do?”  
“Tyler, the only person you need to focus on is you.”  
“Please Mom, I, I, I, I, it was like the coat earlier, I can do things for other people far easier than I can for myself.”  
“Well carry on getting better for him then baby,”  
“And he’ll be waiting for me when I get out?”  
“Sweetheart, I don’t know whether that’s quite the right-“  
“I didn’t mean romantically.” He obviously lied. “I just mean, you know, he, he’ll, he’ll still want to be my friend, right?”

“Tyler, you know that’s not going to end well.”  
“It will!”  
“Tyler.” She warned.  
“It will it will! I, I’ve been planning it! I can be his friend, I can,”  
“Sweetheart, throughout your deterioration, he was the recurring theme of your episodes. He’s more than just some boy, we both know that, and we are both aware that things are going to be difficult. The last thing you need is extra avoidable difficulty when you come home. So as much as you might think you can handle it, I am going to be having words with Josh and ask him to stay away when you’re discharged.”  
“You can’t! Mom you can’t!” He started crying again, and she sighed and held him closer.

“You c-can-can’t-t,”  
“Sweetheart, this is a conversation for the future,”  
“Y-you, ca-an’t,”  
“Baby,”  
“I h-ha-hate y-you!”  
“Tyler.” She kept her voice calm as best she could.  
“He’s the o-o-only re-reason I’m try-trying! You can’t take him a-away! You can’t!” His voice was strangled by his choking tears, but she simply kissed him on the head and let him cry.

“I know he’s special to you-“  
“I love him!”  
“Sweetheart, you, you haven’t properly spent time together in 2 years, you’ve both been through a hell of a lot, changed a lot, and I know it’s easy to think it will go back to how it used to be, but things will never be the same as they were. You’re different people to who you were before all of this.” She tried to help him understand just a little, or at least give him something to think about, and understandably all he did was sob.

“I’m not saying never, I’m just saying not in the near future, and not necessarily inevitably.” She ran her hand through his hair again. “But we don’t need to worry about that now, okay? You’ve still got another 18 weeks or so on your section, and there’s always a chance they’ll renew it for another year, so we’re looking at maybe another 70 weeks in hospital, plus all the transitioning time, and who knows how long rehabilitation is going to take? Baby, this is so far in the future that it’s not worth getting anxious or upset about now.”

“I miss him,”  
“He misses you too baby,”

“My, m-my section,” He hiccuped. “H-how l-l-long?”  
“Well you’re on your second one now sweetheart. You finished your 6 month one and you were still really sick, so they put you on a new 12 month one. You’re about two thirds of the way through that, it started back at the beginning of March and it’s nearly the end of October now, so not too long till it runs out, 4, 4 and a half months.”  
“A-and, a-a-and then another?”  
“Maybe.” She kissed his thick hair. “We’ll see poppet, we’ll see. The doctors told me when we admitted you that the usual admission length is between 2 and 5 years, sometimes longer. Hopefully we’ll get you home before then, but if you still need professional care then obviously we’ll support you through that.”

She knew the news was upsetting, but it also wasn’t new. Tyler’s memory could be a little unreliable, however she was certain that they’d discussed it at least two dozen times since he was well enough to hold a conversation, and it seemed a little unlikely that he had literally no awareness of what the future held for him. But the way his tears seemed to erupt even more frantically and his sobs became even rawer suggested that she’d just opened up a new wound.

“Oh baby,” she reached across and wrapped her other arm around him, cradling him close. “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry, but you’ve done the hard bit, yeah? You’ve done the tricky bit. It’s all downhill from here I promise, it’s getting easier everyday and you’re getting better, so much better. You’ve done the hard bit.”

“Baby baby, shhshhh,” Kelly could feel herself tearing up a little as her son crumbled in her arms. “Angel, please, shhhhshhh, Momma’s here, you’re okay, shh,”

“I messed it up Mom.” He squeaked barely loud or clear enough for her to understand.  
“No no no sweetheart, you didn’t mess anything up, none of this is your fault Tyler. You wouldn’t feel guilty if you had a physical ailment, so don’t start blaming yourself for a mental one.”  
“Not that, this!” His face was still half pressed against her chest and his words were muffled but she was paying incredibly close attention.

“I’m not sure I fully understand Tyler, what do you think you messed up?”  
“The co-c-con-v-ver-s-sat-tion!”  
“The conversation? Baby, that’s okay, we can start fresh if that would help you feel better? Imagine we’ve just come straight from Cygnet and not said anything yet?”  
“N-n-no! No! It w-won’t, it, it won’t w-work!”  
“Was there something specific you were hoping to talk about baby? Maybe if I have a better understanding of what you’re trying to achieve then I’ll be able to think of ways to help you get there.”

“You’ll, y-y-you-you’ll s-say n-no,” Tyler sat up ever so slightly, but still rested his entire body weight against her. Admittedly that weight was scarily low though.  
“Try me?”  
“I messed it up!” He cried out in frustration.  
“Try and say what you wanted to say Tyler,”  
“You’ll, y-you’ll l-l-laugh a-at m-me,”  
“Tyler Robert I would never laugh at you.”

“I, I, I, I m-mess-ssed it all u-up!”  
“No you didn’t.”  
“I rui-ruin-n-ned i-it,”  
“Baby you really didn’t.”  
“Th-there’s n-no h-hope any-m-more!”  
“There’s always hope.” She told him with a big kiss to his crown.

“Please Tyler, I won’t judge you for it I promise, can you tell me what you were hoping to talk about?”  
“You’ll s-say no!”  
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, the only way we’ll know for sure is if you ask.”

“Discharge.” He whispered a moment later.  
“What about it sweetie?”  
“I w-wanna go home,”  
“Oh darling, we want you home too, everybody misses you so much, the little ones are always writing you letters that I’ve been saving to give to you when the time’s right. Do you want me to bring them when I next visit? Are you well enough to look after them? Not rip them or get too worked up over them?”  
“Mom!” Tyler obviously wasn’t focussed on the letters. He’d set his heart on something else.

“Not long to go now Ty, 4 months left on the section and then we’ll talk to the doctors, see whether they think it’s a good idea to perhaps not immediately put you on another one. If they decide you’re well enough to be an informal patient then I’ll begin making plans to slowly slowly transition you home, maybe just a few hours here and there to start with, but eventually we’ll get you back baby, I promise. You’ve just got to keep improving so they’ve got no grounds to resection you, and keep being patient angel. Be patient.”

“Please,” Tyler looked up at her with huge tear swollen eyes. “Please,”  
“You’re sectioned under the mental health act baby, you have to be here, if I take you home then I’m breaking the law.” She stroked his hair fondly whilst she herself teared up.  
“Please,”  
“There’s nothing I can do Ty.”  
“Y-y-youcana-a-p-p-pe-peaa-al,”  
“Say again darling? Deep breaths,”  
“Appeal! Y-y-you’re, you’re my n-nearest r-r-re-relative, you c-can appeal! G-go to tri-trib-bunal!” He gasped and a single tear rolled down her face, but she ignored it and kept her focus on him. She had to focus on him.

“Tyler, I could hypothetically take this to tribunal and get permission to discharge you myself, but,” she started telling him, but he guessed where she was going with it and sobbed more hysterically. “Baby baby,”  
“I messed it up I messed it up I messed it up I messed it up,” Tyler wept intensely.  
“You didn’t mess anything up Tyler Robert, even if you came out with me today and kept calm as a puddle and behaved perfectly, I still wouldn’t bring you home baby. You’re not well, and you need to be in hospital.”

“Please M-Mom, please!” He begged.  
“Darling, shhh,” Kelly hushed him whilst slipping one hand into her coat pocket and fishing out a compact mirror. She struggled with it single handedly for a few seconds, but managed to flick it opened eventually and held it to Tyler’s line of vision.

“Look baby, look, can you see what Momma sees? Can you see that bruise on your forehead? Big swollen bruise? A headbanging bruise?”  
“I just, I, I, I got scared,” her son whimpered at his reflection, so she knew she’d made her point and snapped it shut then put it away so she could hold him in both arms again.

“I’m worried you’ll get scared a lot more at home though baby, you’ll get scared when Jay runs up and down the stairs with his heavy shoes on and when Maddy plays her music far too loud and when Dad shouts at the TV and when I shout at all of them for doing all those scary things. And no matter how much I shout, they don’t stop, and they won’t stop. We’re a family, a busy hectic chaotic family Tyler, and right now you need the opposite of that.”

“Please Mom,” he buried his face deep in her side.  
“I love you baby, I do, and I need you to feel and be safe all the time. I can keep you safe for short periods, like I have today, but baby it’s just impossible for me to do it for 24 hours a day everyday. At home, it’s just me and you, there’s no back up, no nurses, no IMs, no seclusion rooms, no night team. The only thing to protect you from the evil thoughts is your own strength, and me.”

“I’ve taken care of you before Tyler. I cared for you when you were a little boy with OCD, and I cared for you when you were a teenager with depression and anxiety too, and I cared for you when grief and heartbreak were added to the pile and turned into psychosis. Tyler, I have tried to take care of you for the last two decades, and it’s broken my heart.” She admitted in floods of tears.

“I care about you Tyler, I will always care about you, but I can’t care for you again sweetheart. The year before we admitted you, I was close to collapsing, Momma can’t do that again baby, Momma can’t do that again. And it wasn’t your fault, of course it wasn’t, but I do need you to see how precarious the situation is. Coming home prematurely, before your treatment’s done, it could be bad for you Tyler, and it could also be bad for Mommy.”

“The only way I can sleep at night is by knowing you have a team around you, protecting you from yourself.” She sniffed away some of the tears but they were replaced within seconds. “Baby, I’m not ready for you to lose that team, I’m not ready to lose the security and peace of mind that your hospitalisation brings me. I’m not ready for you to come home, and neither are you.”

“I’m s-sorry Mom,”  
“And I’m sorry too Ty,” Kelly rested her head against his and pulled them together both apologetically and fondly, missing the smell of his hair and the shape of his head. Missing her baby.

“I don’t know how to d-do thi-i-ss,” he cried hopelessly.  
“Even though I’m not taking you home, I’m still here for you Ty. You’re not alone in there, okay? We’re still your family. I’m still your Mom.”  
“They scare me M-Mom,”  
“Who do baby?”  
“L-lo-lots of them. Lots. J-Jack on my w-ward, he, he says he’s gonna k-kill me, and, and there’s a girl who always p-pushes my food tray on the fl-fl-floor, and e-everyone on w-ward 2 screams at me w-when I w-walk past to make me cry.” Tyler listed just a few of his tormentors, and Kelly tried to keep her tears discrete but knew she was doing a bad job of it.

“They’re sick Tyler, that’s all, they’ve got their own demons. It’s nothing you’ve done, it’s nothing personal, it’s not your fault.”  
“I’m so scared Mom,” her eldest squeaked.  
“Oh baby,”  
“I hate it there,” he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he choked on his sobs. “I hate it s-s-so m-m-mu-uch,”  
“I’m sorry Ty baby,” guilt weighed heavy on her shoulders for putting him through it all.

“And I know I c-ca-an’t go h-ho-ome, can’t, can’t d-do that to y-you, but, but, argh! I can’t! I can’t do it M-M-Mom! I’m so sc-scared all the t-ti-time and I can’t slee-eep or c-ca-calm d-down or br-bre-eathe. I get so a-anxious-s and the compulsions get w-worse and, and, a-and I get in a mess and e-end u-up h-hu-hurt-ting my-self even th-though I don’t w-want to!” Tyler spoke from his broken heart, and Kelly listened on tearfully.

“I hate Cyg-g-net, I h-hate it, b-bec-cause no-nob-body there cares! The staff d-don’t c-care! I feel like a, a, a, an animal!” He cried out. “I miss home, I, I, I miss p-people near me who c-ca-care! It’s so, so, uh, it’s so cold, and, a-and I feel so sma-all, and so, so insignific-cant, but at home you, eugh, it’s warm, and, and,” he stopped to bite on his lower lip whilst his mom hugged him tight.

“It doesn’t m-matter though, I, I, I can’t go home, I can’t,” Tyler recognised.  
“4 months,” she rested her lips against his skin. “Can you do that for me sweetheart? 4 more months?”  
“Uh huh,” he nodded, eyes closed and face scrunched up with such determination.

“When I come back in 2 weeks, do you want me to bring your dad? Or your brothers and sister? Is there anyone you’d like a visit from?” Kelly asked softly, and realised instantly who he really wanted. “Any family members Tyler. Only family.”  
“He’s family.”  
“Not legally.” She pecked him gently. “You have a think about it, okay? You’ve got two weeks, just tell Larry or Dr Russell to email me if you decide you want anybody else.”

“It’s time, isn’t it?” It dawned on him why she was having to wrap things up.  
“7 minutes till we have to be back baby,” the mother told him, triggering more fearful sobs. “Baby you did so well, yeah? You managed the full hour for the first time, this, this is a good day, this isn’t a sad day, this is a huge step in the right direction love, and Momma’s so proud of you.”

“I don’t want you to leave me,”  
“I wish I didn’t have to,” she said honestly, stroking his wet cheek with her thumb, willing herself to save the tears for the drive home. “I wish I had a magic wand Ty, I wish I could fix this with a flick of the wrist, but really the only way to get through this is by you carrying on this amazing trajectory, continuing to get better in spite of all the challenges thrown at you, carrying on earning these rewards until eventually you’re ready to come back home, yeah? I know you’re upset, I know, I, I know you’re scared darling, but you’ve got to do your best to rise above it, say to yourself, yes, I’m terrified, but you know what, I’m going to do it anyway. I’m going to get through today, and tomorrow too, because everyday that passes is another day closer to coming home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for my 50th work! Also my first multiple chapter instalment of this series, and my first attempt at a proper posting schedule, lol, lets see how that goes..  
> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, for those who don't know, this is quite close to home as I recently got discharged from my 7th admission, and trust me, they don't get easier (upside down smiley face emoji) - discharge is a reason to celebrate but it's also a huge challenge, and I hope I get that point across with this fic. If I can create something kinda beautiful then it gives this storm cloud a silver lining
> 
> lots of love  
> Maisie


	2. Compromise

“I want to bring him home.”

“What was that love?” Chris said from his armchair on the other side of the living room, looking up from his newspaper to meet his wife’s eyes. She was curled up on the couch under a blanket with a magazine of her own, but had barely even glanced at the meaningless gossip articles. The kids had been in bed for over an hour and it wouldn’t be long until the couple followed them upstairs. The lights were dimmed and the house unusually quiet, and she was exhausted but couldn’t stop thinking.

“I want him home.”  
“He’ll be back new weekend sweetheart, you heard him on FaceTime, he’s going to bring back that Tatum girl with him again. But honestly Kel, you have that boy home so often, it’s as if he never left for college in the first place.”  
“I’m not talking about Zack, but forgive me for not wanting to lose regular contact with a second son Chris.” She couldn’t help but sound a little bitter as she sighed and rubbed her tense left temple.

“Ty?”  
“Uh huh,”  
“He’ll be home soon too darling, there’s only a dozen or so weeks left on his section, right?”  
“18 weeks.” She put her magazine on the side table and cuddled her knees. “And I’m willing to bet good money that they’ll renew it for another year. The longer he’s there, the more money they get from the insurance company. They don’t care whether he’s happy or not.”  
“I agree that perhaps they’re not the most empathetic group of people I’ve ever met, but it’s not like they’re doing anything dodgy, he’s not being held captive, they are a hospital and they do need to provide some sort of evidence for why they’re retaining patients. If Ty’s recovered then they won’t find any reason to keep him and he’ll come back to us, and if he’s still struggling then maybe he needs to spend a bit longer there. I get it’s a hard pill to swallow, but ultimately it’s the way these things work love.”

“Tyler hasn’t been healthy since he was 4 years old. His, his ‘issues’, whatever you want to call them, they’re deeply entwined in his personality. I’m not saying he is his mental health problems, I’m just saying that the chances of them managing to take our little boy and transform him into someone with absolutely no traits? Next to none. I mean I’m his mother and even I can’t begin to imagine what he’d be like without the influence of mental illness, he, he’d be unrecognisable.”  
“Are you scared? Of what he’ll be like when he leaves?” Chris folded up his newspaper to concentrate on her.

“Scared? No no, I don’t think they’ll be able to do it, they’re not well trained or skilled enough. I’m more worried that they’ll use it against him. Sorry sir, you can’t leave, you’re showing signs of anxiety.” She imagined them saying. “You know what I mean Chris, he’s always been anxious, always overthought everything, of course he’d be anxious at the prospect of leaving, of change, and that’s how they’ll keep him there forever. Play the anxiety card in order to keep him under section and keep the money rolling in.”

“Kelly, just be careful with those Mom-goggles, yeah?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I love Tyler, and I miss him like crazy, but I’m in no rush to bring him home. Better to do it once and do it well than have him bouncing in and out of psychosis and hospital for the rest of his life. I can see how much he’s improved, and I’m proud of him for that, but I can also see that he’s not ready for the real world. Mom-goggles, they make your child seem perfect, blur out all the uh, the, the blemishes shall we say? And Kelly, you can’t let them blur out the reality that our child is really unwell, perhaps too unwell for us to manage on our own.”

“He wants to come home, he, he was basically begging me yesterday,”  
“And what did you say?”  
“I told him not yet, I told him that he’s not ready and neither am I.”  
“Good, because I know you don’t want to tell him, but he does need to have some awareness of how it impacts all of us, impacts you.”  
“He doesn’t need details, he’d only feel guilty.”  
“Kelly darling, in those final weeks before we admitted him, your hair was falling out, you didn’t sleep, you chewed all the ends of your fingers so they bled, you didn’t eat, you lost 3 stone. Sweetheart, the day after he went in, I had to take you to ER because you were so stressed. I’m not saying we need to sit Tyler down and tell him all of that, but we need to bare it in mind when we have these sort of discussions.”

The reminder of how dark their lives had become thanks to the horrible illness Tyler was coping with impacted Kelly more than she had expected. It wasn’t as if she’d forgotten how ill she herself had become, and it wasn’t as if she was in denial, it was simply difficult to know whose wellbeing to prioritise. Hers or her son’s.

“Oh love,” Chris sighed softly and she came to the realisation that tears had begun leaking down her cheeks. Her husband rose from his chair and instead settled by her side, and she cuddled against his chest just like Tyler had done to her a little over 24 hours ago.

“It’s in the past, it’s done, it’s over, things are better now. He’s better, you’re better, we’re all healing and moving on from those dark days.” He rested his lips on the top of her head.  
“It’s not over though, is it? This thing, this cloud, it’s going to be hanging over Tyler for the rest of his life, and that means it’s going to be hanging over us too.”  
“There’s no reason for us to presume he won’t make a full recovery darling.”

“Do you want to talk about this properly?” Chris asked after another minute of her gentle crying.  
“Discharging him?”  
“Yes. I’m not promising to bring him home, but do you want to discuss the practicalities and difficulties of it? See whether it’s even possible on our end?”  
“Thank you Chris.”

“Why don’t we start by talking about how he was on the visit? The brutally honest version, now that the kids aren’t here listening in.”  
“He, well, okay, straight away I made things difficult for him, so so difficult.”  
“How come?”  
“He was only wearing one of those ridiculous anti-rip anti-ligature shirts and he was absolutely freezing, so I told him we needed to get another layer for him from the car. He didn’t want to be left alone, so I had to put him in the position where either he had to walk with me into the parking lot, or he had to go back inside.”  
“And he’s still cautious about cars?”  
“Yeah, he was terrified, but he did it Chris,”  
“Right,”

“Then once I started looking for the picnic blanket in the trunk, he spotted Josh’s hoodie in there too,”  
“Oh,” her husband understood how much of a problem that could have been.  
“He asked if he could have it, I tried to say no, to tell him it wasn’t a good idea and it wasn’t worth the potential upset it could cause, but he convinced me that he could cope, and I let him put it on, and he was okay Chris.”  
“Yeah? Good for him.”

“We started walking to the park together, and after only a minute he reached out and held my hand.”  
“Completely of his own accord? You didn’t prompt him or anything?”  
“No no, it was all him, he did amazing.”  
“Does sound amazing.” He smiled a little.

“Then when we sat down, I asked him whether he felt up to talking today, and he said he didn’t know yet so he took some time to ready himself, then he initiated the conversation once he felt well enough.”  
“Good,”  
“It was just about weetabix, but he came up with that topic by himself, he knew he could cope with it, he knew it was something that wasn’t too difficult or likely to overwhelm him, and for a little while he lead the conversation Chris. That’s the first time I’ve heard him do that in over a year.”  
“Bless him,”

“And I’m not hiding anything from you love, so I’m gonna be honest and say he got worked up after that, and he started smacking his temples until I physically stopped him with a strong restraint that he was fighting.”  
“Why? Why did he flip?”  
“I thought he was having delusional thoughts but now I’m starting to think maybe it was just poor wording. He said the doctors turned his brain into mush.”  
“But you think he meant...?”  
“That the medication, aaall that medication he has pumping through his system constantly, it’s impacting his concentration. I mean it’s targeting his brain, his mood, his thoughts - how’s a chemical meant to know whether an idea is destructive or not?”  
“Mmm,” Chris hummed as he thought about it.

“I’m going to call the ward tomorrow, ask to speak to the psychiatrist, ask, beg, for his dosages to be lowered and and unnecessary meds to be stripped.”  
“Kelly, he needs those pills.”  
“I thought so too, but Chris he was so good, so so good.”  
“I’m hearing a lot of great progress, but he’s progressing from rock bottom, he’s nowhere near well enough to start weaning off meds.”  
“Not off completely, just lowering them ever so slightly so the side effects aren’t as intense, because that’s what he got so upset over.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed a little.

“Look, I know it’s not exactly inventing the wheel, but he had so many breakthroughs, and I can’t help feeling we should reward him for that, rather than treating him like he’s still having breakdowns.”  
“He is having breakdowns though love.”  
“You know what I mean! He’s having fewer and far less severe ones.”  
“So we reward him by bringing his favourite chocolate when we visit him, or buying him a nice journal to write in or something, not ripping away all his support and routine and therapy and throwing him into a completely different environment that could potentially be very triggering for him.”

“Chris,”  
“Yes love?” He reached up and moved a strand of hair out of her face lovingly.  
“I don’t think he’s suicidal anymore.”  
“Did he say that? Because we can’t always trust him to be honest.”  
“No no, he didn’t say anything along those lines, it’s just,” she paused for a moment, knowing she was losing the battle to bring him home and not wanting to forfeit another potential persuasion point because of poor explanation.

“After he begged to come home, and after I told him no, he was trying his best to verbalise his thoughts. He told me how much he hates the hospital and how the other patients are cruel to him and scare him so much he doesn’t want to be there, but also how he couldn’t go home because he listened when I said I wasn’t ready. He wanted to come home but he knew he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to stay on Cygnet anymore, and I was just waiting for the moment he said he wished he was dead. I could feel it coming, this hopelessness with no clear route forward - it would be the perfect reason for him to say he wanted to die, and yet it never came, he never said it.”  
“And that’s why you think he’s not suicidal?” Chris seemed unimpressed, which broke her heart.

“Please Chris, please, you know Ty, you know how he used to find any excuse to validate suicide. He’d spill a glass and that would be enough to cause him to threaten to kill himself, hell, some days he didn’t even need a reason.” Tears started rolling down her cheeks once more. “And I’m not saying he ought to be suicidal now, but he had a good reason to be, if that makes sense.”  
“It makes sense.” He nodded. “Tyler’s in a difficult position, in between a rock and a hard place, and the easy option would be to fall back on the suicide method.”  
“Yeah,” she whispered.  
“But he didn’t. He stayed strong.”  
“So strong. Chris he’s terrified of that place, but he told me he’s going to try and get through another 4 months. He’s so brave.”

“If he’s willing to stay there, let’s not jump the gun and bring him home Kelly. Let’s wait 4 months and have the conversation again.”  
“Please, he’s not going to get any better in those conditions.”  
“Sweetheart you’ve thought that before, and yet he’s proved you wrong. Let’s give him the chance to carry on getting stronger before we pull the plug.”  
“His hallucinations have been getting better, his anxiety hasn’t.”  
“His mental health and stability have been improving, you can’t segment that down.”  
“I can Chris! He’s got multiple diagnoses, and they all need to be addressed or else he’s never going to have any quality of life!”

“Look, I’ll put it this way. I’d rather he be anxious than psychotic.” Her husband told her.  
“Why does he need to be either?”  
“Sweetheart you just said his complicated mental state is deeply woven into his personality. I think we’re both aware of the fact that they can’t cure his anxiety, however they’ve helped him make a mighty fine step forward in overcoming his psychosis. I’m incredibly happy with how far they’ve brought him along, I think he’s doing a marvellous job, and I certainly don’t think we can do a better job with him here at home than professionally trained doctors and nurses can in a specialist facility that’s used to treating people like him.”

“I don’t like the doctors,”  
“I know love,”  
“No no, let me finish,”  
“Sorry, go on,”  
“I don’t like them, but I appreciate what they do for him. If it was just a straight decision between who should be his primary care providers, them or us, then I’d almost definitely choose them because they can offer far more expertise than us.”  
“Right,”  
“But it’s more complicated than that Chris. It’s, it’s the difference between a home filled with loved one, and a hospital dominated by patients who are incredibly unwell.”  
“Yeah,”

“The other patients, the way he’s been describing them recently, they sound terrifying.”  
“He was one of those sicker patients once remember, he was out of control and out of touch with normality. I know it’s scary, I get that, and I get that because we had to live with him when he was like that.”  
“Him, just 1 of him, he lives in a unit that holds 24 service users. Imagine the chaos, the noise, the disorder, then imagine trying to overcome a condition that makes you excessively panicked by sounds and confrontation and routine change ups. He’s trying to beat anxiety in an environment that breeds triggers.”

“Anxiety, in my opinion, is inevitable for Tyler. If we keep him there, he’s anxious, if we rip him out of his routine and change around literally every aspect of his life by discharging him then he’s going to be anxious here too. Personally I’d rather he be anxious in a safe environment than him be anxious here where we aren’t equipped to look after him.”

“I think we are equipped.” Kelly whispered.  
“If he gets anxious and has a panic attack and that leads to delusions and hallucinations that cause him to run out the house and straight back to his drug dealer and start on the morphine again, you think you’ll be able to stop him?” Chris frowned doubtfully.  
“Maybe not if things got to a physical confrontation stage, I’m aware he could physically over power me, but I’d like to think that I’d be there with him when he starts to panic, talk things through so they don’t progress to a full blown attack.”  
“You’d be with him?”  
“Of course.”  
“Kel, you work a full time job and have 3 other kids and a household to run, you’re just human, you can’t be by his side and alert 24 hours a day everyday for the rest of his life, it’s just not realistic. Maybe you could do it for a week or so, but this is about building a sustainable future for our son.”

“I get so scared sometimes,” she sniffed and he stroked her reassuringly with his thumb. “You know, about his future,”  
“Me too hun, me too, and I don’t know what it’s going to entail, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that it’s better than his past.”  
“He’s going to be institutionalised, isn’t he?”  
“Perhaps.” He was honest, which she appreciated but cried over nonetheless. “Or maybe he’ll be a future president of the United States. The possibilities are endless, and so are his capabilities. And I truly believe that Kelly, I do.”

“I wonder what he’s doing right now, what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.”  
“I reckon he’ll be in his pyjamas, getting ready for bed, maybe already tucked up under his blanket, and he’ll be thinking about you and how nice it was to see you yesterday and to get outside and have some fresh air. He’ll be feeling proud of himself for doing so well, and loved after all the supportive things you undoubtedly told him-“  
“Or terrified of all the people screaming on his ward and be crying somewhere in his room, desperate to come home-“  
“Sweetheart don’t torture yourself like that.” Chris interrupted her interruption.

“I’m worried,”  
“You always are.” He paused to softly kiss her head. “But it’s not always needed.”  
“He’d planned it. What he was going to say about coming home, he’d planned it.”  
“Yeah,”  
“He clearly thinks about it a lot, and he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think he could handle it.”  
“Sweetheart, I don’t know what more you want me to say. I don’t think he’s ready.”  
“Please Chris, in two weeks he’s got another hour of unescorted leave, come along, see for yourself, talk to him, listen to what he has to say, then maybe you’ll see from my perspective and understand why I’m so desperate to get him out of there.”

“Do you want him out because you hate Cygnet? Or because you want him here.”  
“Both, but mostly because I keep picturing him locked up with all the other patients who bully him to the extent where he’s having episodes and incidents. Please, I need to protect him, get him away.”  
“How about we do some research tomorrow, look back into some of those other hospitals we were considering before deciding to send him to Cygnet. Try and get in touch with some of the medium security ones and see if they have beds available so it’s a step down from intensive care? That way he’s rewarded for his effort, and he’s away from the bullies, and most importantly he’s safe.”

Kelly contemplated the offer for a moment, pleased she was at least able to persuade her husband ever so slightly. Even though it wasn’t what she had set her heart on, she had to admit that it did sound like a good compromise.

“Since we’re seriously talking about changing up his routine, could, could we maybe try a little test period at home?”  
“Is it worth the risk?”  
“How about I make some calls and find somewhere suitable that’s happy to reserve a bed for him. We take him out of Cygnet and bring him home, and if he has any dangerous incidents then we take him straight to the new place, no hesitation. If he can cope then we don’t have to. After maybe a week, we review how things are going and decide whether to try another week here or admit him.” Kelly proposed.

“Would he know?” Chris asked, and Kelly had to withhold a smile. He hadn’t instantly said no.  
“I don’t think we have to tell him straight away. He doesn’t need the added pressure of a trial period looming over him.”

“I dunno about this Kelly, I don’t know. I get a bad feeling.”  
“You’re scared, that makes sense, you don’t want our boy to get hurt. But Chris please, trust me, trust I can take care of him or know when the time is right to let professionals take over. I’m his mother, I refuse to let anything happen to him.”  
“What about work?”  
“I’ll quit.”  
“Quit?”  
“I’m a receptionist, it’s hardly rewarding. I hate it. However settling and rehabilitating my son? I’d love nothing more. Please Chris, please, I know it’s a big step but I honestly don’t think he’s going to get any better in there.”

“Fine.”  
“Yes? Thank you thank you!” She was suddenly overcome with a grin as she hugged her husband tight.  
“On the condition that I get final say about whether he gets readmitted at any point. You are clearly desperate to have him here, you have to let me look at the situation objectively and decide whether it’s safe for everyone involved, okay? Everyone, meaning safe for the kids and safe for you as well as Tyler, alright? And not just at the end of a trial week, I’m going to be deciding everyday several times a day, and you have to be honest with me, yeah? No hiding incidents so you can keep him here.”  
“I wouldn’t Chris, I won’t, I’ll tell you everything I promise.”  
“Okay love, looks like our boy’s coming home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter of the fic, and a slight filler, so to make up for it I’ve decided to post again this Sunday :D
> 
> Also - levitate - YES
> 
> Also - any suggestions of fics/authors? I haven’t been reading many recently and want to get back into it. I prefer longer ones but if there’s an amazing short one the please comment that too
> 
> Lots of love xx


	3. Release Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTW for ligatures, stay safe xx

“Tyler, get up, your folks are here.” A nurse came into the room to find him sat on the floor in the corner, hiding under his blanket.   
“Dr Russell took my leave off me.” He poked his head out to tell her, then pulled the blanket back over again.   
“Why?”  
“Cos I headbanged.”   
“Why?”  
“I was upset.” Tyler didn’t bother covering himself with the material that time, but looked at the nurse with a glare that he hoped would make her leave.

“Are you upset now?”  
“I’m fine, just leave me alone.”  
“Well if you’re not upset then there’s no reason you can’t come with me Tyler, get up.”  
“Dr Russell told me he stripped my leave!”  
“Well Dr Russell told me that your parents are here to take you home!” She exclaimed back then sighed, and Tyler took a moment to think about what she had just said.

Mom and Dad were here to take him home?

“You’re wrong.”  
“Tyler.” Her voice had a harsh undertone that scared him more than he was willing to admit. “For the next 2 minutes you’re still technically a patient, and right now you’re being a non compliant patient, and you know what that means.”  
“No!”  
“Come on then, I don’t have all day young man. Got other things to do, so if you want to go then you better get to it.” She clapped her hands twice and made him jump twice.

“Wait, I, I need to pack,”  
“Pack what? None of this is yours, this is all Cygnet property. Anything missing will be reported stolen.”  
“My pictures, one, o-one sec,” he scrambled off the floor and raced over to the metre by metre square marked out on the wall above his bed where he had been allowed to tape up just 12 photos to last him the 14 months.

He had to use tape. They wouldn’t let him use blue tack, apparently he could hide sharps in the blue tack, but the tape ruined the photos and Tyler felt himself getting worked up as he rushed to pull all the precious memories down and ripped a few in the process. His hands were shaking and his breath was catching and his vision was blurring, and he couldn’t quite seem to get on top of it.

“Tyler.”  
“I’m coming!” His voice cracked, the familiar crack of anxiety.

Shit.

“You don’t want that one?”  
“Huh?”  
“That picture? Of you and your mom?” The nurse pointed to one he’d forgotten, the one he said goodnight to each night and kissed her on the forehead before he went to sleep, and Tyler quickly ran back the few steps he had taken away from his bed and snatched it from the wall and hugged it close to his chest with the rest of the pile.

“Do you need some medication? PRN medication?”  
“Can I see my Mom please?” Tyler made eye contact as a tear streaked his left cheek.   
“She’s waiting down the hall with your dad and Dr Russell.” The nurse opened his bedroom door and held it until he followed her, then lead the way down the ward towards the central hub of the unit.

On the way down, he passed one new resident he didn’t really know, staring at the wall opposite absently. The nurse, whose name he also didn’t know, ignored the patient and pressed her fob against a sensor that allowed them through one door and into another strip of corridor which was much much louder, and a team of 4 were restraining a long-term resident, Carl, face down on the ground as he screamed. Tyler’s tears hastened.

The nurse unlocked a final door with her fob and Tyler turned a corner with her into a section of the unit which was accessible to visitors and therefore more brightly decorated than the bland walls of his home for over a year. Half a dozen rooms played host to family reunions and meetings and the like, and the nurse showed him to his favourite of them all. Lucky number 4.

She pushed the final door open and revealed a handful of comfortable chairs around a coffee table with glasses of water, and all of the chairs were empty as all the room’s occupiers were standing as they entered. Mom, Dad, and Dr Russell all span to face him, and he went straight over to his biggest provider of comfort.

“Mom,”  
“Hey hey hey, what’s this about Ty? What are these tears over baby?” She wrapped him up in her warm arms and held him close.  
“I ripped my pictures Mom,” a whisper escaped his quivering lips.   
“Pictures?”  
“I, I, I, I, y-yeah,” he pulled them from out of the hug they had been sandwiched in, and showed her the damage done by the tape.

“Sweetheart, that’s okay, Momma’s got all these pictures on her computer, we’ll print them again, on nice shiny paper again, and they’ll be good as new, okay? Don’t worry about the pictures, it’s okay.” Mom pulled him back into a hug, and he let her do all the work as he tried to stop the hot tears running down his face.

“Tyler, I know we spoke a few days ago, and we discussed what the week was going to look like for you in regards to timetable, and I told you that you didn’t have any leave because of your incident over the weekend.” Dr Russell started talking whilst his head was still hidden in his Mom’s chest, but he didn’t let go to listen, just turned ever so slightly to see him and nodded.

“Well since then I’ve been talking to your parents, and they’ve been having some different ideas about what your future might hold, and ultimately they’ve come to the conclusion that they no longer wish for you to be a service user here.” He said and Tyler let out a sob of overwhelming relief and simultaneous crippling anxiety.

“Now, it should be mentioned that this is against Cygnet advice, we strongly encourage you to see out your full 18 month admission plan, however your parents do legally have the right to take you off your section and discharge you. Even though they can do that, you are over 18, you are an adult, you can make your own decisions and you can choose to stay against their will.”  
“No! No no no, no, going home,”  
“Definitely?”  
“D-definitely.”  
“Well I’m very sorry to hear that Tyler, I personally think it’s a shame you couldn’t see it through, but nevertheless we’ll proceed with the forms.” The doctor went over to the coffee table and sat down, and Tyler heard his father’s footsteps go to the other side of the room too, but his mom and he took another minute just in each other’s embrace.

“I listened baby, last leave I was listening, I heard you, I understood you, and I came back for you, yeah?” She whispered reassuringly. “You’re allowed to be scared, but Momma’s got you now and Momma’s going to look after you now. We’ll make this work baby, I swear to you we will.”  
“Th-a-a-ank y-y-you,”

“Mrs Joseph? Tyler? Could you take a seat please?” Dr Russell forced them apart, but she still held his hand tight as he cried.

 

 

  
Tyler didn’t know how he got to Cygnet hospital all those months ago. He didn’t remember much from all those months ago, he blocked some of it out according to his psych, some of it was lost to the drugs and alcohol, but most of it was gone with the time loss that came with psychosis and he’d been warned would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Not only did he feel disoriented in the hospital because he felt emotionally lost and out of place, but also because he had no idea where he was physically. All he knew was Cygnet felt a million miles away from those he loved.

Finally, after 14 and a half horrific months, he was allowed out. He’d be lying if he said he was paying attention on the journey home, he spent the entirety of it crying in the backseat against his Mom’s chest whilst Dad drove silently, but it must have taken at least an hour to arrive back in their neighbourhood.

He didn’t recognise much from the occasional houses he could see out of the corner of his blurry eyes, cowering in her embrace and trying to focus on not having a panic attack. Part of him was convinced that this was some very elaborate hallucination, or maybe even a trick to test if he was making progress, and if he had a meltdown then he failed the test and wouldn’t be allowed home at all. Even if it was legitimate and he really was going home, an episode now could jeopardise that, and Dad could turn the car around at any moment and lock him back up in that hellhole-

“Sweetheart, slow down those breaths, you’re safe,” Mom whispered against his hair.   
“What was that? Is he okay? Do you need me to pull over?” Dad asked.   
“He’s doing well, he’s okay, aren’t you handsome?” Her breath was hot on his scalp but he was paralysed, unable to move.   
“Nearly home son, 5 more minutes.” He called back as Tyler squeezed his eyes closed, tears dripping from his thick lashes.

He had techniques, he had tactics, he had training. He’d been taught how to claw things back from the brink of collapse, and now he had to put them into action. Deep breaths with even longer exhalations, slow thoughts, sequences, count to 10 and back again, count to 20 and back again. Name as many colours as possible. Name an animal for each letter of the alphabet. Repeat but with foods. Repeat but with countries. Count to 30 and back again.

“Good boy, so brave, so so brave.” Mom praised his efforts, and even though his heart was no longer about to hammer through his chest, he still felt overwhelmingly suffocated, anxiety holding a strong hand around his vulnerable throat, squeezing tighter tighter ever tighter on his airway.

“Do you want to look out the window Ty? Would that help? You might recognise where we are now baby.”  
“P-p-p-pic-pict-t-tures,”  
“Pictures? From your wall? They’re in my purse sweetie, do you want to look at them?”  
“Ye-ye-yeah,” He hiccuped, and she kissed him softly then used her spare hand to dig into the bag on the spare seat next to her, eventually finding 4 of the photographs and bringing them round to show him.

“Is the one you’re after in that pile?”  
“Zzz-a-a-ack and M-Ma-a-addy,”  
“I think I know the one you mean, one moment sweetie,” she rummaged through the dozen she still had to her left, then eventually managed to find the one he was hoping for, holding a semi-ripped image of his brother and sister playing with a snake they’d found in the garden when they were just kids. Tyler had looked at the photograph every single day he was well enough to be in control of his actions, and it was nowhere near the first time he’d sobbed over it.

“Momma loves this one too baby, I’ve got this on my bedside table.” She started talk in soothingly, and he tried his best to quieten his cries so he could hear. “Your Dad actually took the photo, because if I had seen that snake I probably would have run half a mile in the opposite direction. Terrifying things, snakes.”  
“They’re harmless around here love.” Dad joined in from the driver’s seat.   
“Still scare the life out of me, so yeah, Dad took that picture and it always makes me smile because Maddy looks so much like my sister. And I love Zacky’s little grin bless him, look how happy he is with himself,”

After that, the car fell silent except his occasional gasps as he tried to grapple with the choking anxiety that still racked his body. He felt the vehicle come to a slow halt, and through tear blurred eyes, he just about managed to make out the outline of a house that vaguely seemed familiar deep deep down.

“Tyler, son, I’m going to go inside and leave you and your Mom to take things at your pace. Don’t feel you have to say anything in response, but I’m so glad you’re back home kid, I’ve missed you, and it’s great to have you with us again. You’re doing really well so far, I’m proud of you, and if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”  
“Thank you Dad,” Mom answered for him. He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car, and the loud sound as he slammed the door shut made Tyler jump and gave anxiety the opportunity to squeeze tighter, but Mom’s hug squeezed even tighter in response.

“As long as you need baby, we’re going to sit here as long as you need.” Her voice hovered in the air around his head. His head was loud.

“Are,” he tried to begin, but his voice ran out.   
“I’m listening baby.”  
“Are they here?”  
“Maddy and Zacky?” She checked and he nodded as much as he could. “Zacky’s off at college now honey,”  
“Oh,” Tyler’s stomach dropped and hotter tears coursed downwards at an even faster pace, pangs of jealousy over the younger brother who was blossoming whilst he wept in a car, too scared to go in his house.

“Oh honey,” Mom noticed the deterioration and cuddled him even more supportively. “Do you want to see him? Is that why you’re upset? Because I can call him and he’ll be home in 4 hours. That’s all it takes, 4 hours. I didn’t tell him we were discharging you because I thought it might be a bit overwhelming to have him here, but I’m sorry if I presumed wrong. Momma can fix it, yeah?”  
“N-no,”  
“No? Shouldn’t I tell him?”  
“N-n-n-no-not y-ye-et.” Tyler struggled to form the correct sounds.   
“Okay,” she kissed him as he hiccuped, terrified that he wouldn’t be able to stay healthy for those 3 hours and he’d be readmitted before Zack even got close.

“And no, Maddy’s not here, Maddy’s at her friend’s house for a sleepover and Jay’s at Granny’s for the night. They both have school tomorrow, and right now the plan is they’ll come home afterwards, but if you need more time then we can buy you more time. We’ll find them more sleepovers, or they can stay with Granny, or Dad can stay with them in a motel for a few days. You’re priority number one at the moment Ty, so everything is going to be moulded for your best interest.”

“I haven’t told them you’re home, the only people who know are me and Dad and Granny and Grandad. Your grandparents know not to come around unless invited, and I’ll only invite them if you’re completely ready - they’re just aware so that we can include them in any crisis situations, okay?” Mom started unveiling just a few details of the intense planning Tyler knew she must have put into making his discharge happen. He just pleaded with himself that he wouldn’t let her down.

“I didn’t tell your siblings because I don’t want them getting over excited and jumping all over you and smothering you. We need to take this at a slow controlled pace, sustainable and long term comfort, not pushing you too far too quickly, yeah?”  
“Y-yeah,” He gulped as she smoothed down his hair.

“If you need some down time to calm down now then that’s okay. I’ll help you out of the car and into the house, and I’ll show you your bedroom and make sure you’re okay with me walking away, and then you can have the door closed and hide under your covers and have a little nap, or a cry, or whatever it is that you need to do, and that’s absolutely okay Tyler. As long as it’s not harmful, it’s okay.”  
“Lock?”  
“On your bedroom door?”  
“Y-yes,”  
“No sweetheart, no locks. We’ve got the front and back door locked so that we’re safe, but no locks on any bedroom or bathroom doors. Safest that way. Means Jay won’t get himself locked in the toilet quite as often, and ensures I can keep an eye on you.”  
“O-o-okay,” he knew it was a long shot. He just craved a little privacy after months of monitoring.

“The house isn’t so different from how it was when you left, so hopefully it won’t be too much change for you baby. We changed the kitchen, and Maddy painted her walls grey rather than pink, but nothing else is too much different.”  
“I, I, I d-don’t, I don’t,”  
“You don’t remember?” She whispered softly and he shook his head no. “That’s okay baby, it’s hard I know, it’s hard, but you don’t need to panic. Momma will give you a tour when you’re ready.”  
“N-no-not t-today,”  
“Alright sweetie, not today.”

“Mom,”  
“Yes baby? I’m here,”  
“I’m s-scared,” he whimpered.   
“What are you scared of lovebug?” She played with his short hair fondly, pushing his slowly growing fringe off his forehead and then wiping away some of his tears.

“Cygnet.”  
“Sweetheart you’re done, you’re gone, you’re outta there for good. You’re home now, no more Cygnet.”  
“Until y-you s-se-send me b-back!”  
“Tyler, I’m not going to do that.”  
“Yes you w-will! When, wh-when I get w-worked up, you, you’re, you’re gonna send me a-away again Mom!”  
“You’re upset now, and do I look like I’m in any rush to readmit you? No. We’re gonna make this work.”  
“This is nothing!” Tyler cried out. “I, I, I c-can g-g-get so much w-worse.”  
“Well firstly, I think it’s a great display of your progress that you’re able to stay relatively calm in spite of how anxious and scared you are, and secondly, I knew right from the start of planning that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park for either of us, but Tyler I am committed to keeping you home for good. I’m going to do my very best to keep you here, okay?”  
“O-okay,” He hiccuped unconvinced.

“You tell me when you’re ready to try and go indoors, yeah?”  
“Not yet!” He latched onto her tightly and didn’t let go.

 

 

 

Tyler didn’t know how long they sat there for. He wasn’t allowed a watch on the ward, and Dad had turned the display off so there was no clock on the dashboard, but once he had calmed his whimpers down enough he had managed to count 44 cars pass by the quiet road behind them.

Mom had sat patiently with him like a saint, occasionally encouraging him to focus on his breathing, but mostly just holding him and wiping away his tears, and he’d missed that so much over the past few months that it caused him to cry even harder at some points.

Eventually he felt ready, but not knowing how to voice that made him anxious and anxiety made him scared and then he didn’t feel ready anymore. It was a loop he was stuck in and desperate to break out of, but desperation was yet another cause for downfall and he was trapped.

“Okay!” He finally blurted out, sick of sitting there like a coward.   
“Was that directed at me?” His mom asked, obviously trying to be wary that there was a very real chance he could be talking to a voice.   
“Y-yeah,”  
“Good boy, well done, I’m so so proud of you Tyler.” She pressed her lips against the top of his head, then removed one of her arms from the hug and used it to open her door. The flood of cold air blowing into the car made Tyler jump a little, not used to the outdoors, but he still managed to shuffle along the backseats and climb out after her.

She waited a few seconds, one hand wrapped firmly around his wrist, presumably to stop him running off, before closing the door again. Her attempts to give him time to acclimatise before adding the loud noise was appreciated, but didn’t stop him from panicking.

“Deep breaths, you’re okay, you’re doing so so well.” Mom tried to comfort him, not forcing him to move until he was ready. “We’ll go inside and straight to your room, and you can get into bed, yeah?”  
“D-d-do I h-ha-ave to s-sleep?”  
“No no, not if you don’t want to, it was just a suggestion. We can do whatever you’d like. We could watch a movie together, or look at the new books I bought you and see if you’d like to read any of them, or you could play some piano, or you could have a bath if you’d like? Whatever you feel like sweetie, Momma will do her best to make it happen.”  
“I want, I, I w-want to go r-running,” he looked up the street with tears in his eyes.

“A run? Um, Momma will, um, I’ll think about how we can make that happen safely, okay? Maybe it’ll have to be once Zack comes home, so he can run with you. Or maybe your Dad might be willing to go by your side later?”  
“Alone.”  
“No sweetheart. The golden rule especially for the next few weeks at least is that we keep you supervised and prioritise your safety, and letting you go running alone isn’t very safe.”

“I’ll be good,” he whispered a moment later.   
“I’m sure you’ll try your absolute best Tyler, you always do, but you and I both know that sometimes things get a little out of control. That’s not anybody’s fault, but we need to take the necessary precautions to prevent that from happening, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler sighed glumly.

“Should we go inside?”  
“O-okay,” he summoned the courage to nod, then let her lead the way from the car and over to the front door.

He’d been dreaming of the time he’d be allowed back into his family home ever since the nightmares had become less frequent. They were still there, still happening, but his dreams were also happening, coming true right before him, and yet he felt absolutely nothing but stomach dropping fear as his mom guided him up the little step and across the boundary.

“Welcome home baby.”

Tyler didn’t know why, but he’d been expecting something to click as he entered. Maybe he wanted to suddenly be reminded of all the good times in the Home, maybe he was nervous that some less than pleasant memories would return to trigger him, but the truth was that he felt nothing as he entered. Not a hint of familiarity. Nothing. And that terrified him.

All he’d been thinking every single day in the hospital was how desperate he was to go home, and at long last he was finally there, but it was just a house. He reasoned that he didn’t have a home anymore, he’d never feel that comfort he craved again.

“Welcome back kiddo, I’m proud of you,” Dad smiled at him from the kitchen as they walked past the door. Tyler didn’t have a voice, couldn’t reply, but found his mom’s eyes once again and used that as a way to communicate.   
“We’re going to pop upstairs to Ty’s room for a lil while, have some downtime.”  
“That’s a great idea guys, anything I can do? Want any snacks son?”  
“Mom,” he managed to whisper.   
“I know baby, I know,” she took his trembling hand in hers. “He’s alright Chris, we’re just going to head up I think, get settled,”  
“Alright,” Dad got the hint and stopped staring at Tyler, although the pricking intensity didn’t stop, making him feel even more uncomfortable in his skin than usual.

Still with a tentative grip on his left hand, Mom took a few steps away from the kitchen and down the hall. For a brief moment his legs locked up and he froze to the spot, fear taking control, but her gentle pulling was enough for a mild thaw.

“Almost there darling, almost,” she had latched on to the fact his silence was terror not a tidal wave of fond memories, and seemed to appreciate how hard each and every step of the staircase was. Nonetheless he persisted, knowing the only true alternative was returning to the hospital and all the heartache that came with it.

“This one’s Zacky’s room when he’s home from time to time.” Mom’s voice was scarily unfamiliar, her spare hand gesturing to the first left door at the top of the stairs, then the second. “And this one belongs to not so little Jay, and Maddy, she’s over there.”  
“And you?” He managed to mouth silently.   
“Well Dad’s room is this door here, and whilst you’ve been away I’ve been sleeping in there with him, but now you’re home I’m going to move across into your room with you.”

As it dawned on him that he was going to have a roommate, she pushed open a door at the end of the hall and unveiled two twin beds pressed against different walls and out of nowhere an old memory washed over him like acid.

Josh. Abuse. Homophobia. Homelessness. Doors and hearts open wide. Sharing a room. Sharing a life. Drawing pictures on the floor. Hearing old songs on one bed. Sobbing through a hug on the other.

“Tyler? Tyler you’re making Momma a bit worried, can you say something to me baby?”   
“This isn’t yours, it’s his.”  
“Babe?”  
“That’s Josh’s bed! Not yours!” He cried out a little braver.   
“Sweetie, Josh hasn’t lived here for nearly 2 and a half years. You’re right, yes, for a couple of months we did let him stay with us and we did have twins similar to these, but they’re not the same.”  
“It is his!”  
“No. When you were sick, you used to get really angry, and when you were angry you used to punch and kick things including the beds in your room, and so we had to replace them when we were redecorating because they were really broken. It’s not his, it’s new, it’s all new, it’s a fresh start, yeah?”

Tyler, in his combination of exhausting terror, anger, annoyance and heartache, hadn’t even noticed that his whole room had been redecorated. He couldn’t remember what it looked like before, but he knew it wasn’t this.

The walls were all white, and one was lined entirely with a huge whiteboard screwed to it that tossed up memories of high school. Two twin beds had matching navy blue pillow and duvet sets, and both had a little bedside table with four small drawers. Tyler liked 4. On top of both was a bedside lamp each, and on one was a framed photograph of the family on Tyler’s birthday a couple of years ago.

He took a few steps towards it and away from Mom, carefully picking it up and raising it closer to his face for inspection. It had been the morning of his 18th birthday, they were all on his parents’ double bed, Tyler in the middle with a party hat plonked on his head and a huge grin up to his ears. All his siblings and both his parents were squeezed in around him and hugging him tight, but Tyler knew that Josh had taken the picture. And with that, a sadness fell over the happy image.

“I thought you’d like that one.” Mom kept her voice down as she spoke. “And we can put some more pictures up tomorrow if you’d like? We can print out the ones you took to Cygnet with you again and frame them nicely. Dad bought lots of spare frames so we can do that, yeah?”  
“Maybe.” Tyler put it back.

“I put another one on your new desk, look,” she walked across the room to a light wood desk pushed against the wall, but Tyler didn’t notice the picture, just the incredibly sharp edge of the corner. It was just crying out to have his head smashed against it.

“And Dad and I bought you these too, as a well done for doing so well these past few months and being brave enough and strong enough to earn your right to come home.”  
“Why?” Tyler whispered, looking at the iPhone and MacBook boxes she was gesturing to.   
“Why did we choose these as your presents?”  
“Yeah, I, I’ve got nobody to text, nobody to call,”  
“Well the laptop is a way for you to watch some TV if you don’t feel well enough to come downstairs and join us. We’ve got this new thing, Netflix, I’ll teach you how to use it but it’s basically hundreds of shows and movies to watch, unlimited, whenever you’d like. And I thought we could use the phone as a way to communicate if you have one of your nonverbal episodes-“  
“I don’t have nonverbal episodes.” He told her firmly, heart hammering.   
“You can’t always talk though darling, sometimes you get all quiet and in your head,”  
“It’s not the same thing Mom.”  
“Okay, well I’m sorry, but if that sort of thing happens then you could text me instead. That was the idea.” She explained but he was too busy thinking about Josh’s bed and the sharp corner of the desk to reply.

“If you don’t end up using it, that’s okay honey, we can put it in a drawer until you feel up to it, but I think we should try it out for a few days and see if it helps. Should we charge it up so I can put my number and Dad’s number in?” Her question didn’t wait for an answer and Tyler just stood back and watched as she ripped off the film surrounding the box, then slipped off the lid and took out the rectangular device, then reached in deeper and pulled out a charging cable.

Cable.

“No!”  
“Tyler?”  
“No! No! I’m not allowed that! No!” He started to panic again.   
“Not allowed what sweetie? Breathe.”   
“Cables! I, I, I, Cygnet said no! They said I’m not allowed!”  
“You’re not at Cygnet Tyler, you’re home now darling, with Momma,”  
“No!” Tyler felt the first hot tear streak his cheek, “I could ligature with it! I could hang myself!”  
“Hang yourself? Ty, sweetie,”  
“NO!” A surge of anger powered his arm to reach out and slap his mom’s hand, making her drop the phone and the cable on the floor.

“Shoot Ty.” She crouched down and picked it up, turning it over to reveal a shattered screen as he began to sob. “Right. Don’t worry, Mom will get this fixed, we got you Apple Care to go with it, it’s okay,”

She didn’t understand, that or she didn’t care. He’d have to take manners into his own hands, have to make the room safe for himself, have to eliminate the risk of ligaturing.

The first thing he saw when he twisted his head round was yet another Apple charger, this time plugged in next to the bed Mom had stolen from Josh. He raced across the foreign bedroom and tore it out, tossing it into the middle of the room to start a pile of things to throw out or burn.

Whilst at the socket, he also found the potentially deadly lead to the side light and yanked that out too and hurled it over his shoulder, not caring as he heard it smash loudly behind him.

“Tyler!”

Ignoring her and focusing on the task at hand, he sprinted across to the other lamp and threw that into the centre as well, shattering it into fragments too.

“Tyler! No! Stop!”

He barely even thought about the potential risks of the sharps as he scurried around, checking for any other wires or strings or ropes or anything he could use if things got really bad again. He had to stop things getting really bad again.

Next Tyler flung the doors of his wardrobe open and hastily searched through the entirely new collection of outfits, searching for anything dangerous. Finding nothing but accidentally knocking several shirts into the floor, he span and raided through the drawers instead and hit the jackpot when he found a stash of several rolled up belts, and added those to the pile.

“Chris! CHRIS!”

Breath shaking and heart racing through the sobs, he span on the spot a few times before finally setting sight on the cord of the Roman blinds folded up above the window. He didn’t know what the plan was exactly, how he’d get it down and make it safe, but instinct took over and he pulled and pulled, the strong fixture fighting him but ultimately losing the battle as he heard cracking sounds before the whole contraption came tumbling down with sections of the wall still attached. The momentum meant he staggered back a bit, but victoriously laughed for a brief second when he saw the state of the room. He’d made it safe.

“Just breathe, just breathe,”   
“Get off me,” He panted once he realised a strong pair of male hands had seized hold of him from behind, grip tight on both his biceps .   
“Tyler, relax, just breathe son,”  
“I’m fine! Let go!”  
“Don’t fight him baby,” Mom soothed with a sad expression that he didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything wrong! He was just making things safe, he, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Son, don’t try and run, the doors are locked so you can’t go anywhere. Tyler.” Dad was stern as he tried to wriggle free, needing space to calm down and think. “Kelly.”  
“I know I know - Ty sweetie, please, if you don’t relax then Dad and I will have to go down to the floor and properly restrain you laying face down, you don’t want that, do you?”   
“N-no!” He wept desperately, not understanding how things had gone so cataclysmically wrong.

Mom was going to send him away again. He knew it.

“Oh baby,” Mom sounded upset. He’d fucked it up again. “Baby baby, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay,”   
“Should we both restrain you? Would that make you feel safer?” Dad offered but Tyler couldn’t speak through his hyperventilating tears.   
“I’m so sorry Ty, this is so hard on you, I know, so hard, but we need to keep you safe. We’re your parents baby, it’s our job to keep you safe, and, a-and, and I-I’m s-sorry we haven’t always done, um, we haven’t done a great job of it.”

“Kel, love, do you need a minute?” Dad asked, and in that silence after the question was posed, Tyler hated himself, he truly despised himself, loathed every inch of his selfish form that had so cruelly broken her fragile heart.   
“I’m okay,” She was lying but Tyler could barely hear over his high pitch shrieks as he tried to take in breath.

“We’ll get you your medicine Ty, your medication, that’s going to help you.” The man behind him, holding him tight as he squirmed hysterically, said in a calm deep tone.   
“N-no!”  
“That’s what they do at Cygnet, right? They give you medication and wait for it to kick in, then they give you some space to deescalate. Mom and I will do the same, keep your routine the same.”   
“S-s-so s-str-stro-o-ong,”  
“The thoughts?” Mom asked gently.   
“The m-m-me-eds!” He cried out in response, and she just sighed, not saying anything.

“You don’t like them, I know darling, they, they mess with you and knock you backwards for a little while. I read all your notes, and the side effects, I know they turn you into a bit of a zombie, but that’s better than hysterical and dangerous. They calm you down. We’ll give you the PRN and then Momma will put you to bed and I’ll stay with you the whole time to make sure you’re not trapped, that you’re cared for, I’ll,” she tried to justify it but Tyler was desperate.   
“Please,” he just about managed to whisper though the tears.   
“What is it baby? What can Momma do?”  
“A h-hug,”  
“I’m not letting go till you calm down.” Dad interrupted without a shadow of doubt.   
“A hug?”  
“P-please!”

“If there’s one thing that Momma can do, it’s give her baby a hug,” she put her hands on Dad’s which held Tyler’s biceps. At first his dad didn’t flinch, but there must have been some silent communication that he was too worked up to notice, because suddenly he was released, then bundled up by a softer warmer squishier woman with shorter arms and a bigger heart.

Before he had time to fully process it, Tyler had slipped down to a crouch on the ground and Mom stayed wrapped around him, her head pressed atop his. As the sobs were able to rock through his body more freely, he became more succumbed to their intensity and sunk into her body for support as his own was wracked by wave upon wave of long withheld howls of fear and anxiety and excitement and fear. She just held him there, lips hovering slightly above his crown, appreciating he needed the release and there was nothing that would help him calm down until he was all cried out, several hours later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneaky extra update since the last one was a filler <3 x


	4. Whiteboard

Waking up was scary. He had nightmares every single night and bursting out of them with a gasp was often a relief from the terrors he’d been subjected to throughout his hollow slumber, but waking up was scary. Waking up in an unfamiliar bed to an unfamiliar ceiling was scarier.

Sitting bolt up right, he took a few moments to steady himself as he remembered where he was. He was home. After effectively trashing his bedroom in a matter of manic seconds, he’d been shepherded into his parents’ room instead, and woke up in the double bed to find his Mom still fast asleep beside him, arm stretched out protectively as if she had been reaching for him in the night.

A bright green post-it note was above her side of the headboard, and Tyler shuffled a little to be able to read it, not wanting to take it down in case it wasn’t meant for him. Or in case it was poisoned and would kill him.

_Morning Tyler,_  
_Hope you slept well baby, if Momma’s still asleep when you wake up then just give me a tap so I can be with you <3_  
_Forever and always proud,_  
_Momma x_

The message was warm, and kind, and easy for Tyler to ignore. He had a lot going through his mind and, as much as he adored his mother, her addition to the noise put him at risk of getting overwhelmed again and spiralling again, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape another meltdown without harming himself again.

Yesterday had been a close call.

Knowing it was what his therapist at Cygnet would want him to do, he tried to apply context to the situation. Yes, it was his first time home in 14 months, and yes, discharge had come out of nowhere and so he had no time to prepare or go over safety plans or even wrap his head around it, and yes, he was under an immense amount of anxiety that was unparalleled in his recent memories. And yet, he was ashamed and disappointed and upset that something as simple as going home was all it took to render him hysterical.

For so long he had been telling himself that everything would be better if he could just go home, and now he was faced with the scary reality that the grass wasn’t any greener. What if there was no place in his future where he’d ever truly be okay again?

He could feel himself begin to panic, he recognised the slightly laboured shake to his breath and the way his hand couldn’t seem to relax in any position and the unsubtle speed by which his eyes flicked around the room. It wasn’t a full panic attack coming, at least he fucking hoped it wasn’t, but Tyler knew he needed to do something to ground himself before things slipped too far.

Tapping Mom like she had permitted was out of the question, he’d already put her through enough in just the 18 or so hours he’d been home and she didn’t deserve to have her sleep taken from her as well. Although realistically Tyler knew that she’d already lost far too much sleep because of him.

No, he couldn’t wake her.

If he was at Cygnet then he would have reached into the tray next to his bed and fished out his tangle stim toy to occupy his fingers and ever so slightly distract his ferocious mind. It never did the full job, he never truly felt completely at ease, but something about the early hours of the morning when the screams of the other patients had rarely started and the nurses were yet to force pills down his throat was strangely calming. He feared the dark, he feared waking up alone, he feared being away from home, but those early hours made up the best times he had throughout his admission.

The early hours at home were different, he didn’t find comfort in the deafeningly eery silence, sharing a room with someone felt exposing, and he almost craved the strange numbing of reality that came with the incredibly high dosages. He hated being medicated, but sometimes he needed a buffer. Like now. Now things had a haunting depths of clarity to them and it was off putting.

Maybe he’d forgotten his night meds. He’d forgotten everything else.

The pounding drum of panic picked up its pace and Tyler could hear his voice catching onto the tops of his rapid fire exhalations, and instantly his mind went to a flow diagram he’d been shown in a session a few weeks ago. Hyperventilation lead to distress, which lead to panic attacks, which lead to psychotic episodes, which lead to involuntary actions which lead to incidents. He couldn’t have an incident, no, he couldn’t do that to his parents. No.

Without a real plan in mind, Tyler shuffled off the bed and slowly slowly edged towards the far door, treading careful as to avoid any potential squeaky floorboards that might startle his blissfully sleeping mother. He had a vague memory of memorising which boards squeaked and which were safe in the hall whilst trying to sneak out to meet Josh when they were just teenagers wanting to hang out. The memory was old and fluttered away before he got a proper look at Josh’s face.

His face was getting harder and harder to picture.

Deep down he knew he’d have to forget Josh one day, he knew that they’d had their heyday and now Josh was moving onto bigger and better things. He’d travelled, and he lived with his new friends in his new house, and he’d started studying law, and his future was bright. Tyler couldn’t even remember which of the doors on the landing lead to his old bedroom.

The first one he tried was wrong, but he didn’t instantly back out again, instead he pressed forwards and entered the room that he ended up deciding belonged to Zack, the brother he was closest to in age, but far from close to in reality. Whilst in hospital, Zack had visited Tyler twice. Twice in over a year. His therapist had tried to suggest attempting empathy for his younger brother, putting himself in his shoes and seeing through his eyes - trying to understand why it must be difficult to see someone you love unwell. Tyler knew the reality though, Zack hated him. Zack was ashamed of being the guy related to the town’s psycho, scared off by his severity, and spitefully jealous of all the attention he’d attracted, not that he wanted to be in the limelight though, no, Zack just deserved a scrap of attention too. He deserved a parent to show up to his graduation and Tyler remembered all too well that he’d stolen them away from one of the most important days of his life. No surprise Zack loathed him. He loathed himself too.

It felt fake, Zack’s room, it felt like a shell. It was odd. Tyler couldn’t summon up a memory of what the bedroom should look like, but he knew for sure that the floor was always covered in clothes and the bed was constantly unmade, and it certainly didn’t smell of artificial fruit. Maybe Mom had cleaned it up in an effort to make Tyler feel more comfortable at home? It was true that she didn’t understand his OCD diagnosis, maybe she thought this was it? Or maybe Zack had fully left the nest and it wasn’t truly his bedroom anymore, in which case Tyler felt another wave of that awful taste of jealousy knocking him back. 2 years older but so much further behind. Or, and perhaps most dauntingly, maybe Zack had changed. Tyler had always liked him, his bluntness that was flavoured with an undertone of genuine compassion. The way he could tell it how it is whilst also softening the blow - Tyler needed someone to take the edges off a bit right now.

The reason a tear raced down his cheek was impossible to identify, but he’d grown used to daily crying and brushed it away without a second thought.

With the tempo of his breath and the rhythm of his heart still too fast for his liking, Tyler tightened both his hands into fists with his recently clipped nails digging into his palms, not enough to draw blood but enough to hurt an almost satisfying amount. He didn’t self harm anymore, he was better, he was doing better, he just, he, he, there was a twisted comfort in the pain that he wasn’t quite ready deny himself. Yet. One day he’d be better though, one day he wouldn’t need it, one day, just not yet.

A deep sigh interrupted the succession of sharp gulps, and Tyler retraced his steps back to the landing, taking a little longer the second time round when it came to choosing a door. He tried to think back to his mom’s little introduction, remember what she had labelled what. Memory wasn’t his speciality, it was his downfall if anything. He’d forget things and then he’d panic when he couldn’t find the memories and he’d get frantic and then hysterical and before he knew it he would fall over the edge and things would fall apart.

He wouldn’t let them though, not today, he wouldn’t give his parents any reason to take him back to Cygnet. He was fully aware that he’d only get one shot at this, if he fucked up then it would be straight back to the facility and he wouldn’t be able to convince Mom to let him out again. The only other route out would be official discharge, and Tyler wasn’t naive enough to think that Cygnet would ever stop taking money from the insurance company. He’d be institutionalised for life. No, he couldn’t risk that over getting overwhelmed about doors.

Trying to focus was pointless, he knew the voices never died down enough for clear thoughts, so instead he opened the next door, then the next, until finally he came to the room with the huge whiteboard-wall which he recognised. It was the brightest of all the rooms he’d peeked into, and it didn’t take long for him to link the dots to the blind he’d pulled down.

Dad was asleep on the bed where Josh’s bed used to be. He had a black eyemask on, protecting him from the early morning glow of a distant sunrise somewhere beyond the murky clouds, and a deep snore accompanied his slow breathing. Tyler wondered why he slept in that room, why not Zack’s? Or Maddy’s? Or Jay’s? They all had beds big enough now, and they hadn’t ripped their curtains down in the midst of a manic anxiety attack, so what was the logic behind choosing the lightest room of all?

In reality Tyler knew why. It was in case something happened in the night and he retreated back into his old bedroom, maybe in hopes of finding comfort or Josh or something, and might need protecting from himself. His parents truly thought of everything.

For a short while Tyler stood and watched his father sleeping, the steady up and down of his beer belly which poked out the bottom of his slightly too small navy shirt. The blanket was crumpled up down by his legs, presumably moved around by natural twisting in the night, but Tyler couldn’t help but wander whether his father had nightmares too. He couldn’t be the only one. There had to be others that feared sleep too. Could his dad be one of them?

Knowing staring wasn’t going to provide answers, eventually Tyler looked away, and instead turned his attention to the whiteboard that was now covered in black writing that he vaguely recognised as his mother’s. Whilst he himself was sleeping it appeared as though she’d taken the time to write him out a schedule for the day, and he took moment to read through it.

8am - wake up  
8.30am - breakfast  
9am - morning medications  
9.15am - try and get dressed? (optional)  
9.30am - rest  
11am - house tour with Mom  
11.15am - rest  
12.30pm - lunch  
1pm - lunch medications  
1.15pm - rest  
2.30pm - garden tour with Mom (optional)  
2.45pm - rest  
3.30pm - group decision regarding whether Jay and Maddy should come back tonight, then rest  
4.30pm - they return (optional)  
4.30pm - Mom to be with Tyler upstairs resting  
6.30pm - kids have dinner (optional)  
7.30pm - Tyler has dinner  
8pm - evening medications  
8.15pm - Mom reads bedtime story (optional)  
9pm - lights out

Having it all written out was helpful, but his first instinct was to start counting up the numbers to try and find a safe combination, a combination with 4s, a combination that prevented his mom from dying painfully.

With another squeeze of his nails into his palms, Tyler reminded himself of the irrationality of the intrusive thoughts and tried to put into action all of the techniques Miss Thompson at Cygnet had taught him to overcome them. It was a lot easier recently, the thoughts weren’t as believable and all consuming like they once had been. He still had compulsions every now and then, but he wasn’t a slave to them anymore. He was okay. He was better. He deserved to be at home. He was okay.

Next to the timetable was more writing, still in Mom’s black ink.

Things to do:  
Find a way for Tyler to go on a run  
Fix the blind  
Replace the screen on Ty’s phone  
Discuss booking a time for Dr Wakefield  
Make a meal plan with Tyler  
Take Tyler’s prescription to the pharmacy for auto-refill  
Discuss seeing Father Winston

Challenge of the Day:  
House tour

Tyler didn’t like the sound of a challenge of the day, it seemed like something that would start at tolerable and build up and up and up until suddenly the rug would be ripped from under him and he’d go tumbling all the way back down. A small part of his brain told him that it was just his Mom, she’d never push him too far, but the more believable side was telling him that she didn’t know his limits and it would be an easy mistake to make, and all of a sudden he’d be back behind locked doors in the psychiatric hospital again.

“Ty?” A voice growled from behind him and he couldn’t hold back a squeaking gasp, but thankfully his breath returned to him once he saw it was just his dad, sleeping mask in hand and sitting up on the side of the bed.

“Morning kiddo,”  
“Hi.” He managed to whisper back.  
“S’bit early isn’t it?” Dad yawned, picking up his watch from the bedside table it had been on overnight. “Quarter past five in the morning, yikes.”  
“Sorry,”  
“No no it’s okay, couldn’t you sleep?”  
“No,”  
“Did you manage to get any sleep? Or have you been up all night?”  
“I slept.”  
“Good.” He smiled, and an awkward silence hung over the room.

“Is your mother still asleep?”  
“Yeah, I, um, I didn’t want, uh, to, uh, to, to,”  
“You didn’t want to wake her?” Dad finished it for him, and he nodded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off, I know you would have got there eventually, I should have let you finish Tyler. I promise I’m working on my patience.”  
“It’s okay Dad.” Tyler knew Mom had almost definitely given him some guidelines or pointers or rules, and he had just broken one. But honestly, Tyler didn’t mind. He got annoyed at his anxious stammering, it was no surprise others did too.

“Can you come sit with me Ty? Sit next to your old man? Or would you prefer to stay standing?”  
“I can, um, I, uh, I can sit, yeah, yeah I can sit.” He told himself more than his father, taking small pathetic hesitant little steps across the room before awkwardly sinking down into the mattress.

“S’going on with your hands there son?”  
“Oh,” immediately he relaxed his grip and straightened his fingers out, only to find a series of little crescent indents which slowly began to pool with the tiniest little droplets of blood where he’d accidentally squeezed too tight and pierced too many layers. Shit.

“I don’t,” He was shaking, tears welling. “Dad, I don’t like blood.”  
“Ah, right, okay, look away for me kid.” Dad sensed the urgency and stood up at the same moment that Tyler squeezed his eyes closed tightly and caused hot tears to roll down his cheeks. He fucking hated blood. Without doubt it was his biggest trigger.

“Mom loves to be prepared, you know what she’s like, some sort of grown up Girl Scout, a Woman Scout or something.” He was rambling over the sound of a drawer opening and clips of a box flicking open, but Tyler wasn’t focused on that, he was focused on grounding. A boy’s name for each letter of the alphabet. A girl’s name for each letter of the alphabet. No, no those were far too easy, he had them memorised, he needed something to distract himself, properly distract himself. A French word for each letter of the alphabet? Arbre - tree. Boulanger - baker. Château - castle. Deux - two. Effrayé - afraid.

“You’re doing so well Tyler, Dad’s just going to wipe your hands with an antibac wipe, it might sting a bit, okay?”  
“Uhhuh,” the tears were still rolling, some following the damp pathways already carved into his face, others creating their own routes, all dense with salt and fear.

“That’s it kid, that’s it. I’m gonna stick some bandaids on so you don’t have to look, okay?”  
“Dad,”  
“Yeah I’m here.”  
“Dad, what’s, what’s a word, in, um, in, in French beginning with F?” Even his voice was trembling, brain too thick with thoughts to focus on the list alone.  
“A word in French? What do you mean? Why?”  
“Please,”  
“You know I’m not good at languages Ty,”  
“Please!”  
“Okay okay, well let’s think about this together, um, what’s an English word beginning with F? Umm. Football, how about football? That’s still football in French, right?”  
“R-right.” Tyler gulped, feeling the sticky fabric being pushed down against his left hand, then his right a moment later.

“It’s all tidied up now, okay?”  
“Has it bled through?”  
“No. They’re tiny, I bet they’re already stemmed in fact, we’re just using the bandaids for you to feel safer. There’s no blood I promise.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.”

With that gentle reassurance, Tyler managed to peel his eyes back open again and immediately went to inspecting his palms through his blurry vision. Bright white hypoallergenic bandaids were plastered against both, a little wonky, the left with a bubble that would definitely lead to that edge beginning to curl and eventually drop off, but Tyler didn’t care about the future, he was focusing on the progress he had made to be able to see blood and not have a panic attack. He’d survived.

“Good boy Tyler, good boy, just focus on those deep breaths for me son.” Dad sighed with a forced smile as he sat back down again, reaching across to throw the bandaid wrappers in the trash can, then fiddled with his wedding band ever so slightly.

“If you need Mom, I’ll get her. Don’t worry about feeling guilty for waking her up or anything, she’d want to be here for you.”  
“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” he whispered over and over.  
“That’s four, your magic number, your OCD number, that’s a bad sign Ty. I think I’m gonna wake-“  
“Don’t.” Tyler said a little fiercely, but that was what it took to get his attention back. “Please Dad, don’t, just let her sleep? Please. I’m honestly okay.”  
“Alright.” He sighed, taking a few heavy breaths of his own before looking up at Ty.

“We’re really glad your home son. We’ve wanted this for a really long time, and it hasn’t quite settled in yet that this is actually happening, but I’m so glad it is. The house hasn’t been the same without you.”  
“Without me trashing the place you mean?” Tyler murmured a little sadly.  
“You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting to whip out my wall filler gun again; Jay and Maddy, I mean they try their best, Jay’s put a basketball through a window and Maddy’s dented her door with a shoe whilst you’ve been away, but neither of them have come even close to your remarkable ability to put holes in walls. I mean, yanking down that blind and half the wall fittings with it? Now that’s a master at work.” He gestured to the destruction that Tyler had caused the previous day with a smile on his face.

“As much as I do enjoy our little game of Wreck it Ralph and Fix it Felix, the real reason I’m glad you’re home is because I’ve missed you Tyler. I’ve missed my son. You’ve been gone a long while, lost to Cygnet, lost to morphine and booze, lost to psychosis, lost to heartbreak. S’been a while, but I can see you now Tyler, I can see the real Tyler again inside this nervous scared little boy sat in front of me, and I’m so excited to watch you blossom. It’ll be tough, there’s no denying that, but I just know you’re gonna flourish kiddo, and your mom and I are here to support you through that no matter what. All you’ve gotta do is trust us, and trust yourself, okay?”  
“Okay.”

 

 

  
“I need another one of those,”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler tugged on his sleeve whilst Mom consulted the long printout of medications that Cygnet had given her, not trusting him to identify which pills were for when. He knew which were for when. His days in Cygnet were just long stretched out hours of anxious pacing or hiding in his bedroom, broken up by the nurse’s call for medication time every 6 hours. Without clocks it had been his only way of keeping track of time, the only way his day was structured, the only hint of something remotely interesting happening.

It said a lot about his time on the ward, that the most interesting thing was gulping down the contents of a little paper cup.

“Oh yes, so you do, sorry sweetheart.” Mom twisted the cap off the orange bottle once again and carefully shook out another baby blue oval shaped pill then handed it across the worktop for him to gulp down as well.

“6 pills at lunchtime Ty, my my.” She sighed a little, and Tyler knew exactly why.  
“9 with breakfast, 12 at night. 27 a day, plus any PRN I have to take.”  
“Do you remember when we went out on your leave? Two weeks ago? To the park?”  
“I remember.” His voice was crackly and strange.  
“You were worked up about how much medication you were on, so I called up the ward again and again until they eventually put me through to your psychiatrist, and he promised he’d look into decreasing some of your doses. Did he?”  
“No.”  
“I’m so sorry Ty, Momma tried to get them down, I promise I did.”  
“It’s okay.” He played with the bandaid on his left palm, fingertip of his index finger relaying back the subtle difference between where the gauze started and where it stopped.

“27 a day though baby, that’s too many, this can’t be healthy for anybody.”  
“S’what I need Mom, s’what it takes to get me through.”  
“Through what darling?”  
“Each day. Each minute.” Tyler shrugged slowly and honestly, still avoiding eye contact.

“Would you like me to get you a new psychiatrist to review your case and your scripts, see if there’s any they can cut out?”  
“I, um, I, I,” He thought about it for a little while. “I, what if, um, what if they take away ones I need?”  
“A second opinion though Ty, a fresh pair of eyes. Maybe you don’t need all the ones you think you do.”  
“They might take the wrong ones though, and then, and then I’ll get sick again and you’ll send me away again, and, a-and-“  
“Hey hey hey, baby, shhh, baby, what did Mom already tell you?” She rushed round to be on his side of the counter, wrapping him up in a hug as he started to get overwhelmed again. “We’re not sending you anywhere. You’re home Ty, you’re home for good. You’ve earned this and we’re not going to take it away just because of a few potential future slip ups.”

“I didn’t discharge you because I think you’re completely healed, I know full well that you’re still anxious and you’re still depressed and you still have panic attacks and you still have obsessions and compulsions and psychotic episodes. I know that Tyler. And if you have an episode, I’ll be upset because I hate knowing you’re scared, but I will not punish you Tyler. I will not punish you, and I know that you see Cygnet like a punishment. I’ll keep you safe by whatever means necessary, and maybe that will mean needing to call some EMTs or something, but I promise as soon as you’re safe, and calm, I’ll bring you home again. I’m not sending you anywhere.”

“I just, I don’t, I don’t,”  
“You don’t believe me?”  
“No,” he shook his head, eyes swelling a little.  
“What can I do to help you believe me baby?”  
“I don’t know!” Tyler cried out and she squeezed him, pushing her lips to his temple. He knew it was suppose to be comforting but really he just felt trapped.

“Maybe you just need to have an episode darling. I’m not saying go out of your way to cause one, but maybe if you have one then you’ll see that I’m not going to be shipping you off because of it. I mean I know you didn’t shift into psychosis, but you had a pretty violent panic attack last night and I didn’t send you aw-“  
“But you did Mom! Last year! You sent me away!” He hadn’t realised just how long he’d been holding that in till suddenly it came exploding out of him, drenched in tears.

“You sent me away! You didn’t want me anymore so you SENT ME AWAY!”  
“No.”  
“YES YOU DID! I, I, I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know anybody there, I was just locked in those cold padded rooms for hours and hours, crying and screaming and begging to go home, begging to be with you, but, but, but they didn’t let me Mom, because you didn’t want me!”  
“Baby, no, that’s not-“

“What’s going on? I heard shouting.” Dad came bursting into the kitchen, giving Tyler the opportunity to squirm out of his mom’s embrace and pace across the kitchen to the far corner, one hand running through his hair shakily and the other crossed over his chest protectively.

“Chris he thinks I sent him away, he thinks I didn’t want him,” Mom was crying. Shit. Of course he felt guilty, of course he did, but he couldn’t help the truth. He watched through blurred vision as the taller man wrapped her in his long arm and kissed her crown, then looked up at him.

“Tyler, your mother and I love you, and it’s because we love you that we had to make the decision that we made.”  
“Liar! LIARS! YOU’RE BOTH LIARS!”  
“Son, remember what we spoke about this morning, remember what I said about trusting us to look after you. Lower your voice and take some deep br-“  
“YOU GOT RID OF ME ONCE AND YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT AGAIN! YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT TODAY!”  
“You’re having delusional thoughts, try to calm down kid, how about we keep doing that word game we did this morning? We could do Spanish w-”  
“YOU DID GET RID OF ME! YOU DID!” He screamed out as his mom sobbed against his dad’s chest.

“Nobody got rid of you Tyler, we took you for treatment that helped you to begin the healing process. We helped you.”  
“YOU ABANDONED ME!” Tyler yelled, pushing his mom into hysterics whilst he barely even noticed his own crying as he continued to scream. “YOU ABANDONED ME FOR 61 WEEKS! YOU DON’T DO THAT! YOU DON’T DO THAT TO YOUR SON!”

“Alright, enough, you’re upsetting your mother Tyler. Come next door with me, Mom bought you a weighted blanket off the Internet and I’ll get you comfy on the couch with it so you can take a timeout and calm down.” Dad started walking towards him but Tyler scuttled backwards.  
“I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU! YOU’LL SEND ME BACK AGAIN!”  
“Baby,” Mom whimpered.  
“Tyler, it wasn’t our choice to have you admitted, we didn’t want you to be taken from us, it was the police.”  
“L-LIAR!”  
“He’s t-telling the tr-truth,” she kept on crying.

“You had overdosed on morphine, again, and it nearly killed you, again, and you had to be resuscitated, again.” Dad spoke with a commanding urgency in his voice that compelled Tyler to listen whilst Mom just cowered away from the story. “You were in intensive care, again, and it took a couple of days for you to wake up that time. Not your worst. You’d barely been conscious an hour before you pulled out all your IVs and went straight over to your mother, shoved her to the ground, kicked her in the stomach-“  
“I didn’t,”  
“Yes you did Tyler. You kicked her in the ribs too and broke one, then you punched the doctor who restrained you and broke his cheekbone, and you threw a pregnant nurse up against the wall and tried to choke her, and the police were called. You were arrested. Either you’d be charged with multiple accounts of assault or they’d section you and escort you to a psychiatric facility. We didn’t choose to send you away, we chose to keep you out of prison.”  
“That’s not TRUE!”  
“Yes it is Tyler. Hand on heart, that’s the truth.”  
“It is.” Mom agreed tearfully.

“I wouldn’t! I NEVER!”  
“We know you never would out of your own free will, we know that, Mom knows that, everybody accepts that you were and still are very very unwell. The things you said and did, we know it wasn’t the real Tyler, we-“  
“Mom,” Tyler ignored him, wanting her to look at him, to look him in the eyes, to show her how truly and utterly disgusted he was with himself and plead for her forgiveness. Not that he deserved it.

“Baby,” her face was twisted emotionally as she tried to calm down for him.  
“Son we kept you at home far longer than we should have. Nearly 18 months you were psychotic in our household, that’s how long we fought for to keep you here. We maybe, probably, should have had you admitted as soon as you started getting symptoms because then the recovery might have been quicker, but we wanted to look after you at home because we’re your mom and dad and we’re responsible for you and your wellbeing. We tried so hard for so long, so hard, but it was getting worse and more dangerous by the day. You were hurting us Tyl-“  
“Chris. Don’t.”  
“No, he wants to know why he was put in Cygnet. You hurt us, and you hurt the kids.”  
“I didn’t mean to,” Tyler retreated into a shaking choking sobbing mess, the strength of his screams but a distant memory.

“We know you didn’t mean to, but the reality was that we reached a point where you were too much of a risk to yourself but also to us and our health. You pushed your mom down the stairs, you whacked me round the back of the head with a ceramic vase, you broke Zack’s arm by-“  
“Stop! STOP!” He begged, sinking to the floor with his hands desperately trying to cover his ears and block out the horrific sounds.

Tyler didn’t know or care whether his parents were still dolling out his sins, all he could hear was his own head screaming. Screaming that he was an awful person, a cruel person, a fucking horrific person who deserved to die for all he’d put his family through. The same voices over and over again were fighting to be the loudest, screaming over one another in competition to see who could render Tyler the most hysterical, who could make him hate himself the most, who’d be the one to shove him over the edge.

“Please baby, please, just listen to Momma,” someone was crying on the floor with him, hugging him, stopping his hands from attacking him. “You don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong.”  
“I DID!”  
“You developed an illness, a horrible illness, but that’s not your fault.”  
“It i-i-i-issss,” he wept. “S’m-m-myyy f-f-fa-faul-lt-t,”

 

 

  
Almost two hours after the whole affair, Tyler had finally calmed down and relaxed in his mother’s arms on the sofa, wrapped up under his new weighted blanket and fast asleep. A combination of his usual meds, his PRN meds, a restless night and an exhausting sobbing fit had left both him and Kelly exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep whilst it was her job to keep him soothed. Even though he’d drifted off a little while ago, she continued to gently stroke his hair back with her soft fingers and hum occasional hushing notes to keep him subdued and settled.

She knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth transition home, she was expecting there to be tears, she just hadn’t quite predicted how far things would escalate. All her visits with him over the past few weeks, maybe even months, he’d been so incredibly anxious and timid and scared that sometimes he wouldn’t be able to move, let alone talk. She figured he’d spend a lot of time hidden in his room or even under blankets just trying to take control of his anxiety, she hadn’t expected for him to be so confrontational and angry. Because he was angry. Last night he’d been angry at how unsafe the room was and it lead him to be fuelled by enough adrenaline to be able to rip out part of the wall. And today he’d been furious at her for sending him away.

He thought she’d sent him away. For 14 months, he thought she didn’t want him.

“Love,” Chris poked his head round the living room door, then entered once he saw he wasn’t interrupting anything. “Bless, he asleep?”  
“Yeah,” she whispered back, watching the gentle movement of his chest.  
“I just came to say I’m about to pop to the shops to get some new lamps for you two’s room then pick the kids up from school, I take it I’m just gonna drop them off with your parents?”  
“Yeah, he’s not ready.”  
“I agree.” Her husband nodded, then they both fell into silence for a little while. It wasn’t awkward, they were both watching their son sleep with a tinge of sadness for the first time in months, but there were unsaid word dangling around them that eventually Kelly had to verbalise.

“Chris I wish you hadn’t told him about his violence, it’s only going to make him feel guilty and give him more reasons to feel suicidal.”  
“You told me he wasn’t suicidal.”  
“I told you I thought he was getting better in that regard, not meaning you should try and make him feel that way all over again!” She cried out with a hint of frustration, though the fact she was whispering did blunt the blow.

“Kelly you know full well that’s not what I was trying to do.”  
“What were you trying to do Chris?!”  
“I was trying to show him there’s a difference between him being sick and him being a danger. We kept him at home when he was sick for months and months, over a year, we only had to admit him when he started getting incredibly violent towards us and his siblings. I thought that would reassure him that we won’t readmit him if he gets sick again, only if he gets violent. And that’s the truth.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, I do, I just, he won’t believe we forgive him, and he won’t ever forgive himself.”  
“It’s part of the recovery process, he’ll get there. Maybe it’s something we can ask his therapist to work with him on when we schedule the first home visit soon?”  
“They can’t just go straight into something as deep as him forgiving himself, I mean last time Dr Wakefield saw Tyler he was 17 and living with his boyfriend, and had just had a minor incident with that hallucination at Cody’s party. A hell of a lot has changed since then. Everything’s changed. It’s going to take months and months of sessions to even begin to process it all, let alone progress to forgiveness.”  
“He’s already done months and months with Cygnet though,”  
“Chris he’s going to need therapy for years, maybe the rest of his life. Don’t start rushing him already.”  
“I’m not rushing, I’m not,” he put his hands in the air as if to plead innocence. “We’ll pay for as much therapy as he needs, I’ll find a way I promise.”  
“Thank you.” Kelly sighed, inspecting Tyler’s slightly hollowed and scarred face, the remnants of a bruise still shadowing his forehead.

“Are you worried?” He asked hesitantly a moment later.  
“Yeah. I don’t regret bringing him home, I know I can give him a better quality of life than Cygnet was, but I’m worried.”  
“We’ll give him more time to get used to being at home, but if he really is struggling to settle then we can look back into that day patient program at that other psych hospital, gah, what was it called?”  
“Campbell unit.”  
“Yeah that’s the one.” Chris nodded satisfied. “We’ll look into registering him for the day program, just give you a bit of a break during working hours and hopefully get him in a better place mentally.”  
“Maybe,” she sighed again, stoking his soft brown hair over and over, wishing things would just get better like magic.

“He’s doing okay Kel, he could be worse.”  
“He could be a lot worse.” The anxious mother agreed.  
“He hasn’t hallucinated that we know of, he hasn’t hurt himself, and he hasn’t hurt anyone else. That’s pretty good going.”  
“He’s doing his best.” Chris smiled at their sleeping boy.

“You gonna be okay with him by yourself for a little while?”  
“Yeah, I’m hoping he’ll just sleep through.”  
“Alright, but if he wakes and gets upset, call me, and if you can’t get hold of me then c-“  
“Call 911, I got it babe.” Kelly nodded.  
“I know you do darling.” He came a little closer and kissed her on the top of her head, then crouched down so he was similar height to Ty. She’d be lying is she said she wasn’t slightly nervous he’d accidentally wake their fragile son, but thankfully he stayed quiet, just watching him with a sorrow in his heart that she too was familiar with.

“He loves you Chris,”  
“Even though I don’t understand what he’s going through and what he needs and how to help?”  
“Even so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re all well xx


	5. Reunion

Once again Tyler woke up before the sun, and once again he woke with a gasp, lurching out of a nightmare and into grotesque reality to find no solace. That particular night had been subjected to hours and hours of footage of him beating his family black and blue, hearing the snap of their bones and the smell of their blood as fist after foot after fist found itself plunging into their bodies over and over again.

It wasn’t one of his scariest, just one of his most harrowing since it was built on a bed of such truth.

Again he had no tray of stimming tools to wade through in an effort to minimise his early morning jitters, and the change to routine only intensified their hold over him. Determined not to wake his mother with his panicking, Tyler slipped out of the strangely comfortable twin bed and paced across the room, hands folded atop his head.

His dad had worked quickly, the blinds already repaired and the lamps already replaced, but still Tyler felt that same bubbling of anxiety and mistrust towards the exposed cables and cords he could so easily use. All it would take was one simple knot that he could do with his eyes closed, and he would slip away and join the realm he had come so close to before.

But no, his darling mother was still blissfully asleep in the other bed, and waking up to his blueing dead body was a trauma she most definitely didn’t deserve.

Knowing he needed some distractions from the shamefully appealing mental image of his scared and scarred vessel draining of life, Tyler paced over to his new desk and sat down in the red modern-shaped chair that supported his lower back surprisingly well. On the top of the desk was a photo frame containing an image Tyler didn’t particularly recognise, but it depicted him as a young child alongside a smaller boy he decided was Zack, and a baby wrapped in pink blankies that must have been Maddy. She was only a matter of days old and the two brothers were smiling down at her adorably, and Tyler understood why his mom loved the photo, but didn’t feel that same warmth she did. To him, that boy in the picture was gone, dead, and all that remained of him was a withered spirit unable to cope with the demands of life.

Looking away from the upsetting picture frame, Tyler opened up the first drawer to his left and peered inside, lifting out the contents so he could sift through it. There were two leather bound journals, one red, one black, both with slightly yellowed thick high quality pages with narrow ruling, just how he once liked it. Balancing the black on the palm his left hand, Tyler used his fingertips on the other to slowly and delicately trace over the indented pressing of his initials on the front. T. R. J. His parents had spared no expense.

A rectangular silver case had also been in the drawer, and Tyler set the journal down so he could instead pop the top of the polished metal box and find a beautiful silver fountain pen. He had no doubt that it was expensive, it was on top of a velvet bed and had a beautiful weight to it as he took it in his fingers. It was clear that Mom and Dad had high hopes of him returning to journaling, it was just a shame he didn’t do that anymore. No, he kept his thoughts inside now, where they couldn’t hurt anyone. But he wouldn’t tell them that, disappoint them again, not so soon at least.

He resisted the urge to sigh whilst packing the drawer away once more, wary of the soft and slow breathing coming from the single bed his mother inhabited, not wanting to disturb her. Again he was careful as he opened the second drawer, trying to keep things as quiet as possible. Unlike the first, it contained only one thing, a huge white ring binder with the words WARD 3 TYLER R JOSEPH printed on a sticker stuck to the spine.

Cygnet had 4 wards in their huge building, ward 1 for eating disorders, ward 2 for addiction, ward 3 for psychosis and ward 4 for trauma. Each ward had their own reputation within the facility, but it was widely accepted that the most dangerous to be on was 3. They were the real psychos. They were the ones who were shrouded in rumours, stories of certain patients cutting off their own toes as children and of psychotic husbands killing and eating their wives, and of enough horror to fuel Tyler’s nightmares and hallucinations for months until he became utterly convinced that he was a cannibal who had not only eaten his own toes but also his non existent wife.

No, he hated being from ward 3.

A slight shudder still stuck somewhere between his brain and his skin, Tyler opened up the file and peered inside, not knowing what he was going to find. The first page was nothing significant but still enough for his heart to pound, just his name followed by his case number and various names of those supposedly responsible for his care. He hated them all. The second page was the glossy lies of the ‘Cygnet Care Ethos’ where they swore their allegiance to the cause, promising anxious family members their commitment to the recovery of their loved one.

Tyler could barely stand to read more than a couple of lines before he could feel himself getting angry, angry at their lies, angry at their lack of support and understanding, angry at their poor treatment of him and his fellow ward 3s; treating them like cattle rather than human beings, stripping them of any dignity, tearing them apart then leaving it up to them to somehow rebuild from the ashes without so much of a point in the right direction let alone true guidance.

He’d been one of the lucky ones he supposed, he had a family on the outside fighting for his best interests, he had parents who held Cygnet accountable and therefore kept them in line, he had a home to go to and remnants of an almost happy life he could strive to return to one day. So many other ward 3s had nothing and no one. No reason to get better, no visitors on Wednesdays, no home to return to and no metaphorical light to strive towards. And that had taught Tyler a lesson in itself, an unspoken lesson but a valuable one nonetheless. He’d learnt how society viewed the psychotic. He’d learnt that he should be grateful for the mercy of not having been ostracised yet. He’d learnt he deserved nothing and any progression on that was an added bonus he should value endlessly.

“Tyler? Ty?!” A panicked urgency underpinned his mom’s gasp as she too woke up and looked around frantically after finding the empty bed, only breathing a slight sigh of relief once she laid eyes on him.   
“I’m here Mom, sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have, um, I shouldn’t have got up without your permission.” His voice sounded foreign, alien, not his own.   
“No no that’s okay baby, well done for staying in the room, that’s really good, yeah, that’s really good.” Her words were not her own, she didn’t really believe the praise she was giving, it was hollow and wafted over Tyler like nothing, but he attributed it to her exhaustion as she rubbed her eye and sat up slowly in the bed with a little yawn.

“Whatcha working on baby? Journaling?” She sounded more genuine that time, and Tyler just lifted up the white folder to show to her.   
“I found it, I, I’m, uh, if I’m not meant to have it I’m sorry,”  
“No it’s yours darling, Cygnet gave it to us for you. Since we broke you out of there before you could finish your DBT module they gave us the rest of the worksheets you would’ve been doing so we can try working through them together at home instead.”  
“Oh,”  
“I won’t pretend to be a therapist or anything, but if you want my help with them then I’ll do my best, or I can supervise you, or leave you to do them independently. Whatever you feel is going to work best.”  
“Do, um, do I have to do it now?”  
“Course not babe, no, whenever you’re ready. They recommended 5 sheets a week but I won’t hold you to that, if you don’t want to do any in the near future then that’s fine, if you want to do half a dozen today then that’s fine too.”

Tyler wasn’t used to a choice when it came to therapy, or anything. As a sectioned patient he was mandated to participate in every activity Cygnet decreed, and refusal wasn’t an option. Either they would physically escort him using force, aka dragging, or they would decide he was too sick to attend and therefore too sick to be in his bedroom so he would be drugged with sedatives and escorted to the padded deescalation room and locked in for hours. Choice wasn’t something he was familiar with anymore, and so he froze.

“You don’t have to decide now baby,” her hand on his shoulder made him jump, snapping him back to the present with tear glazed eyes. “Sorry,”  
“S’okay.” He reached up with his hand to rest it on top of hers, leaning his head against her unscarred forearm for a peaceful but brief moment.

“How are we feeling this morning angel?” She kissed the top of Tyler’s head then perched on the edge of his desk, facing him with a tired smile.   
“I’m okay.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” He nodded, then rethought. “Actually, Mom,”  
“Yes darling?”  
“At, um, when I, uh, at Cygnet, in the morning, I’d feel really, um, anxious I guess? And, uh, and do you know, um, you might not know, but do you know stimming toys? Like those fidget things?”  
“I know,”  
“Yeah, um, well they helped me calm down, and uh, and, and I was wondering whether maybe we, um, I, uh, if we could buy some?”  
“Absolutely, well done for asking baby, that’s a great idea.” Mom’s face lit up. “We’ll look online later, how about that? See if we can find some that you might like?”  
“Thanks Mom,”  
“Oh that’s alright baby, good job for telling me, that’s really really good. I’m proud of you Tyler.” There was no hint of patronising and Tyler could feel how strongly she truly felt, and for some unknown reason it got to him, it reached in deep and touched his heart. His mom was proud of him.

 

 

 

“Wowee guys, this smells amazing,” Dad was overly complimentary as he carried over the hot pot of soup from the kitchen over to the heat proof mat in the middle of the table next to the chopping board hosting the loaf of bread Tyler and his mom had also made that morning.

To go as far as to say that Tyler had helped with the cooking was a lie. The chunky vegetable soup mostly consisted of sharp peelers, even sharper knives, hot simmering water and even hotter gas stoves, so he’d been kept at a reasonable distance by his mom, earning the title of chief recipe reader instead. It was a pathetic role but he couldn’t even manage that, words getting caught in his throat in spite of the truth that he genuinely didn’t feel that anxious.

He’d helped a little more with the bread, literally tried being more hands on, agreeing to step in and take over kneading once Mom pretended to be tired and need a break. He was fully aware that she just wanted to make him feel useful and included, and maybe try and release some of his tensions into the sticky ball of dough, but really it made Tyler feel all sorts of yuck, so much touching of food that would later be eaten by the ones he loved most dearly, at risk of contamination by him. They were going to get sick because of him. But Tyler pushed those thoughts down and gulped.

“Well Tyler was a big help,” lie.   
“Oh I’m sure he was,” lie. “Did you enjoy yourself son?”  
“Yes,” lie.

He was wearing a new hoodie and the label was itching. His entire wardrobe had been replaced with fairly safe items, various sweatpants in different tones of grey and navy, two pairs of skinny jeans that Tyler was yet to touch, a dozen different t-shirts, half staple and bland, half with a little dash of colour, and 3 oversized hoodies. So far Tyler had lived in the hoodies, finding comfort in the way he could cower behind the masses of fabric and hide away from the world if he needed to.

In that moment he contemplated needing to, contemplated pulling up his hood and pulling up his knees to his chest and just bursting into sobs for no apparent reason other than emotional exhaustion, but instead he stayed sat, staring straight ahead at his bowl and 2/3 full glass of water. 1/3 empty.

“Right, should I serve you some soup kiddo?” Dad’s hand hovered next to his bowl until Tyler nodded.   
“Please.”  
“You want everything? Or want me to try and avoid carrot chunks best I can? I know you don’t like carrot,” he dunked the ladle into the pot.   
“I like carrot.”  
“You don’t.”  
“I do.”   
“You don’t, you never have done, ever since you were a little kid-“  
“Chris, sweetheart, he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s 20 years old. If he says he likes carrot then he likes carrot.” Mom interrupted the slight friction that had appeared from nothing. With a sigh, Dad poured one ladle, then a second ladle full of the admittedly gorgeous looking soup into the bone China bowl, then set it down in front of him again.

“You’re welcome.”  
“Thanks,” Tyler whispered, sinking down into his chair, not really understanding why he was in trouble for learning to like carrot?

“Love?”  
“Just the one ladle thanks,” Mom passed her bowl and Dad filled it without any comment, then filled his own and sighed again.

“I’ll take grace. Ty, you don’t have to hold hands.” She said a moment later, taking dad’s hand on top of the table whilst Tyler just fiddled with his long cuffs, confused more than anything. Why was he in trouble for learning to like carrot?

“Father, we have gathered to share a meal in your honour. Thank you for putting us together as family, and thank you for this food. Bless it to our bodies, Lord. We thank you for all of the gifts you’ve given to those around this table. Help each member of our family use these gifts to your glory. Guide our mealtime conversations and steer our hearts to your purpose for our lives. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”  
“Amen,” Dad echoed after her, but Tyler couldn’t force his lips to spit the word.

He hadn’t prayed in months, in years, and yet he felt nothing. No turmoil, no guilt, no hysterics. He had bigger things to ponder than a higher power.

Immediately after Dad released Mom’s hand, he grabbed two slices from the freshly baked loaf and dropped one on his side plate whilst tearing the other up and soaking it with the soup piece by piece. Mom was more delicate, carefully filling her spoon and raising it to her lips with a gentle cooling blow before putting it in her mouth. Tyler just watched.

“Not hungry champ?”   
“Full from breakfast still.” He didn’t completely make it up, his anxiety was filling his stomach with butterflies.   
“Try a little bit baby? Don’t have to have it all, but something to last you until dinner.” Mom loved walking the middle ground. “Plus you ought to taste what all our hard work resulted in, this is delicious!”  
“I didn’t even do anything.” Tyler picked up his spoon and played around with a piece of onion floating close to the edge of the bowl.   
“That’s not true honey, you helped me with the recipe,”  
“You could have done it without me Mom.”  
“She wanted your help though,” Dad said with his mouth half full, and Mom nodded agreeing.

“Dad,”  
“Yes son?”  
“Why, um, why are you here?”   
“Why am I here? As in, uh, as in why are we here at all?” He frowned, thinking Tyler meant something existential, “Well,”  
“I meant, no, I meant, uh, why aren’t you at work?”  
“Oh,” he laughed a mixture of relief and awkwardness. “I took the week off to spend it with you Tyler.”  
“And, um, and Mom?”  
“I don’t work sweetie,”  
“But, but, on leave, ages ago, you, you said about the, uh, the dentist? The front desk? At the dentist?”  
“That’s right, I used to work there, but my contract expired,”  
“You quit.” Tyler wasn’t dumb.   
“I didn’t.”  
“She quit for you son, to be with you, that’s how much you mean to us.” Dad said with mom glaring at him for a brief second before falsely smiling at Tyler once again.

“Can you afford that?”  
“Tyler, don’t worry about money, okay baby? You come first.”   
“But with Zack at college, I mean, I don’t, I don’t want to make problems. Even more problems.”  
“He got a full ride,” the pride on his dad’s face was bursting through in the form of a grin, and Tyler’s stomach sank. He was happy for Zack, so happy, so so happy, but he couldn’t deny the overwhelming desire to cry.   
“Yeah he got a fair few scholarships from all over the country bless him. Opted to stay pretty close to his momma though, he’s only over at University of Michigan.”  
“S’not that close.” Tyler sniffed, still playing with his food because he knew he’d burst into tears if he made eye contact.   
“3 and a half hours on a good day,” Dad chimed in, not realising that Tyler thought anything further than a few metres was too far from his mom. “And he was thinking of heading across to Arizona, so it’s far closer by comparison.”  
“Arizona?”  
“Yep, but your Mom whipped out the Tyler card and low and behold, Michigan it is.”  
“Chris! Are you trying to upset him?” She hissed.   
“What’s the Tyler card?”  
“I’m not trying to upset him, it was a joke love, Ty knows that,”  
“What’s the Tyler card?” He repeated a little louder.   
“It’s nothing sweetie, your dad’s just being a putz.”  
“What’s the Tyler card?!”  
“Tyler, I made it up, there’s no such thing.”   
“Tell me! What’s the Tyler card?!” Tyler snapped with a hot tear.

“Baby, I think what your dad was trying to explain but didn’t think about his wording is just the fact that I mentioned to Zacky when we were picking colleges that he might want to be a little closer to home so that he could be here for you when you got discharged. Obviously we didn’t know back then that you’d be home quite so soon, but nonetheless Zacky agreed with me that he wanted to be close to you. That’s all Dad meant.”  
“Was that all you meant?” He turned to his father whilst mopping up a few escaping tears with his sleeve.   
“Yeah. Plus, you know, Mom and I both found it hard having a kid we couldn’t see very often, and we didn’t want to lose another one.”

It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same at all, Zack was off achieving all the goals that their parents had always aspired of them, Tyler had a breakdown and couldn’t be trusted to not tear through his own skin with his teeth and nails without physical restraints for the first 4 months of his admission. It wasn’t the same.

“Please can I get down.”  
“Baby,”  
“Please,”  
“Okay of course Ty, yes, but let’s just do your lunch meds then you can go have a rest upstairs,”  
“Meds later, need to leave,” he stood up, trying to keep his sobs for behind closed doors.   
“No, no skipping medication Tyler Robert.” Dad stood up too and the situation was too confrontational, far too confrontational.

“He said he’ll have them later, so he’ll have them later Chris. Come on baby, Momma’ll help you.” Mom rushed to be by his side, grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the room. It was a little on the harsh side but Tyler needed it, muscles frozen with anxiety stopping him from running to safety like he was so desperate to.

“Can you manage the stairs honey? Or do you think it would be better to go in the front room under your weighted blanket?” Her voice was hushed as more and more tears trickled down his face.   
“Need to get out.” His breathing was becoming more and more rapid.   
“Out? Out where?” She didn’t get the urgency, the sobs were coming, they were coming, “Should we go into the back garden? Is that what would help?”  
“S-Swing,”  
“Alright baby, alright, Momma will get you a coat because it’s chilly, and some shoes too, and then we can get you on the swing I promise.”

 

 

  
“Heeeey Darling,” Dad smiled out the open window of the driver’s seat as Maddy approached the car that she had ensured would be parked two streets over from her actual school. She loved her dad so much, but that didn’t mean she was about to commit social suicide by getting picked up in front of all her fellow classmates by him.

“Hey Dad,” she climbed in the front seat, threw her bag back onto the seat behind, quickly kissed him on the cheek, then fastened her seat belt so he could pull away. Why he was home from work in time to pick her up was a mystery, as was the reason she’d spent two nights away from home, first at a friend’s and then with her grandparents, but she was hoping for some clarification as they raced towards the elementary school a few miles down the road with the goal of catching the end of Jay’s basketball practice.

“How was your day princess?”  
“Eh, it was alright, Mrs Roe was in an awful mood and so set us like 3 hours worth of homework due in for tomorrow, so that was nice of her, but Mr Farah’s wife made cookies for him to bring in which was super cute,” she told him whilst fiddling with the radio, trying to find any station with remotely good music to last them the 5 minute drive. “How about you?”  
“Yeah, good thanks honey, making the most of the week off so I had a lie in, then your mom and I got some bills paid and banking done, ordered a new bench for the garden, did some research into maybe getting a new washing machine too,”  
“Oh wooooowwww, what a fun life,”  
“I mean what can I say? We’re just party animals,” he laughed a little too enthusiastically, but Maddy didn’t think about it twice.

At the exact moment there was a lull in the conversation, her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she pulled it out, only to see a text alert.

“S’Josh.” She told him.   
“Oh yeah, what’s he after?”  
“Nothing, just says hey, I might ignore him for now then text back later after Jay’s practice is done. The cell service in the gym is shocking.”  
“He doing that a lot at the moment? Messaging you?”  
“Josh? Ummm, yeah I guess, like two maybe three times a week?”  
“Yikes, that is a lot,”   
“It’s alright, I don’t mind talking to him I spose,”   
“You sure? I can have a word, say school is really stressful at the moment and you just need some space? I mean he is, what, 6 years older than you? It is a little odd that a 21 year old dude is texting a 15 year old girl.”  
“It’s not like that Dad,” Maddy groaned. “He’s my brother’s ex,”  
“I’m not saying there’s anything, well, weird going on, not at all, I’m just saying he needs some friends his own age.”  
“He’s got friends, Jesse and Andrew,”  
“His roommates.”  
“They’re his friends Dad.”  
“Because they need him to cover a third of the rent,” Dad told the truth but Maddy didn’t like it, and sighed.

“I’m not saying it to be mean, I genuinely wanna help him because I know he’s lonely, and he was like a son to me when he lived with us. If there’s anything you can think of which we can do then tell me princess,”  
“Discharge Tyler?” Maddy lightheartedly suggested, knowing her brother still had 4 months left on his section and would almost definitely be resectioned for another year, then spend a couple of months in a step down unit before he could ever dream of stepping foot inside their home again. She was expecting Dad to tell her exactly that, but instead he just ignored her and pretended to focus on the road ahead. Weird.   
  
“I dunno, maybe we can try taking him back to his old church group? Find his old friends from before Debby died?”  
“They beat him Madison,”  
“His parents did, not the church,”  
“That whole community knew and did nothing. No, not them, I’d rather he be alone.” Dad’s grip was suddenly tighter on the steering wheel, knuckles white. Maddy hadn’t prepared for such a deep conversation to spring up, and didn’t quite know what to say.

“He mentioned maybe joining the LGBT society at school?”  
“Oh yeah? Oh that sounds perfect,” he relaxed a little as they pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school, slowing to a crawl whilst looking for a space.   
“He’s scared I think, kept making up reasons why it was a bad idea, workload and stuff,”  
“Well if you could encourage him then that would be great, or if you get a chance to talk to Mom later then maybe she could try and convince him?”  
“I’ll talk to her when we get home.”  
“Okay darling,” he smiled as they came to a stop and he switched the engine off.

They were already late to Jay’s practice and so neither hesitated as they rushed out of the car and across the tarmac towards the sports centre. Maddy had basketball every evening except tonight, but since Tyler had been hospitalised and Zack had gone off to college, she had grown incredibly close to Jay as a protective but also lonely sister, and came to the second half of his session every week. It just happened to help that this week Dad was there to give her a ride.

To say there were both familiar with the layout of the gym was an understatement. Maddy had basically lived there when she was still in elementary school, and Dad had seen 3 kids go through the same process. Not Ty, Ty had been homeschooled. Thinking about her eldest brother made her feel kind of, well, sad, so she didn’t. Instead she kept herself focused on the present whilst leading the way through the foyer and across to the doors of the gym, sneaking through as discreetly as possible and climbing up the steps of the bleachers until finding a bench she wanted to sit on and shuffling across with Dad not far behind.

She spent a few seconds scanning over the dozens of boys dressed in identical kit, some with red bibs on, playing a practice game before she eventually found Jay and waved. He didn’t see but that didn’t matter.

“Madison,”  
“Yeh?”  
“There’s um, there’s something I need to talk to you about,”  
“Right, okay,” she knew she’d snuck out last Saturday to meet her boyfriend Will but she was almost completely certain that nobody knew, how could they know? She’d left no trace. And she wasn’t about to make the classic mistake they always did in the movies and confess prematurely.

“Your brother, Tyler,”  
“Oh god no, no no no,”  
“Madison.” He grabbed her hand tightly as she panicked, tears in her eyes.   
“This is why you’re home! Oh my god, he’s dead, isn’t he?”  
“Madison stop it, breathe, he’s fine,”  
“Promise?!” She wanted to relax but couldn’t.   
“I promise,”

“You promised he was fine when you visited the first week of summer and then Mom told me he tried to hang himself with a piece of twine he found in the Cygnet garden, and it would have worked if they hadn’t found him and cut it off.”  
“That was ages ago Maddy, he’s doing better, and she shouldn’t have told you that.”  
“Why not??”  
“Because you’re 15, you don’t need to know the details of all your brother’s suicide attempts.”  
“And I was 13 when he used to steal my money for drugs and lock himself in my closet when the rats were coming and melt my razors for blades to tear himself apart with, and I was 13 when I used to call 911 a dozen times a month for ambulances to heal his cut arteries, and I had to help restrain him when we got there in time to stop the cuts for that day, and I had to mop up his blood from the floor whilst you and Mom were in the hospital with him, and I was 13 when,”  
“Maddy, enough now, it was a difficult time and I’m sorry we couldn’t shelter you from that, but it’s in the past.”

“I’m just saying, he needed help for a long time, he was really sick for a long time, he needed therapy and medication and rehabilitation and he didn’t have any of that, and I was exposed to it all. I can cope with being exposed to it now.”  
“Your mother and I thought we were doing the right thing by trying to look after him ourselves. When you’re a mom and your kid has a severe mental breakdown and his boyfriend goes missing, I’m sure you’ll do a far better job than us.”  
“Dad, I’m not, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I know you were doing what you thought was best, I’m just saying that maybe if he had gone to Cygnet as soon as Josh left then maybe he’d be home already.” Maddy sighed, not liking the tone that had befallen the conversation.

“Tyler’s at home Maddy.”  
“No, Cygnet is not his home, he doesn’t belong there, he belongs with us, his family, we’re his home.”   
“When your mom and I went to visit him this week, we discharged him. He’s at home.”  
“What?” She heard but didn’t believe. “He, what, he’s at home? As in? He’s in our house? Right now?”  
“Yes.”  
“And he’s staying?”  
“Yes.”  
“Oh,” Maddy didn’t know what to say, thoughts whirling and all of a sudden tears gathering along lower lash lines all over again.

“He’s coping really well so far, he panics a lot and needs constant supervision and support and encouragement, but he’s doing amazingly. He’s blown me away actually, he is managing remarkably.”  
“He’s really home?” She wanted to make sure this wasn’t some twisted joke as tears began their way down her cheeks.   
“He’s really home.” Dad nodded, squeezing her hand lovingly with a small proud smile.

“I thought the doctors said he needed more time,”  
“They did, but your mom and I agreed that he could potentially recover faster in a better environment. We’re trialing him at home, with a different psychiatric unit on speed dial for back up if things go wrong, and we’re just taking things one day at a time for now.”  
“Another unit? Are you, are you going to admit him if he relapses?”  
“Depends on the severity and circumstances of the relapse. Maybe. He has had a few minor incidents at home but we knew he wasn’t a danger to himself or us, so we kept him with us. If that ever changes and he puts you or your siblings or us or himself at risk then that’s when we might turn to the other unit for help. But no, the goal is to keep him at home from now on.”  
“Right,” she whispered with a sniff, still in slight disbelief.   
“And he doesn’t know the other unit is a possibility, he gets hysterical when the idea of sending him away is raised, so don’t bring it up with him?”  
“No no, course not.”

“Granny and Grandad know, your mom and I obviously know, and you know, but nobody else does,”  
“Zack?”  
“No. Mom doesn’t want him rushing home from school and spooking him,”  
“He deserves to know Dad.”  
“I agree, but when the time is right.” He replied as she wiped away a few escaping tears, not knowing what to say or how to feel.

“Josh?”  
“Doesn’t know and will not be told.”  
“Dad!”  
“I understand Debby’s death was difficult to deal with and I don’t blame him, but the fact is that Josh’s absence played a big part in Tyler’s breakdown and no doubt his reintroduction into his life holds the potential to be equally as destabilising,”  
“He loves him Dad,”   
“Who, Josh?”  
“Yeah probably, and I bet Tyler still loves him too!”  
“Sweetheart, it’s been nearly 2 and a half years since Debby died and they were last together, there’s nothing between them anymore. If Josh is saying he still loves Tyler, he means he loves the memory of him, or who he remembers him as. He doesn’t know the new Tyler, let alone love him.”

“I know it’s a nice idea, that Josh can move back in with us and they can get back together and be as happy as they were and everything will go back to how it was, but the reality is that your big brother is really sick Madison, and he’ll probably be really sick for the rest of his life,”  
“But he’s getting better, right? I mean he’s well enough to come home,”  
“He can improve yeah, and he has been improving recently, but he can’t ever be cured.”  
“I understand,” she bit her lip and nodded.

“How, how is he?”  
“Scared.” Her father answered honestly. “Brave, and determined, but scared.”

 

 

“Do you want Momma to quickly dry your hair baby? I have a hairdryer next door in Dad’s room if you’d like me to.”  
“S’okay,” he whispered whilst continuing to run the towel through his wet hair. It had recently been clipped by the barber who came to Cygnet every week, and Tyler had already decided to grow it out a bit longer as an act of victory over the rules that no longer governed him.

He’d been given the rare luxury of almost 45 minutes of privacy whilst having his first bath in months to help him warm up after the half hour he spent calming down in the frozen garden. The salts dissolved in the warm water that claimed to help with stress and promote relaxation seeming to prove effective, and he was feeling slightly less volatile. His mom hadn’t gone far, sat on a chair outside the door with a magazine, having the restraint to only check every 5 or so minutes whether he was okay or not, and allowing him to live out his fantasy of being completely alone.

Eventually the bubbles had to burst and the plug had to be pulled, and out he climbed, shivering his way back to reality. It was only very early evening, he hadn’t even had dinner, but he had no complaints when Mom suggested he get into his pyjamas, and he even added a pair of fluffy socks to the look. He felt calm.

“Maddy and Jay will be back soon darling,”  
“Will they not like me if my hair is wet?”  
“They’ll love you no matter what Ty, they don’t mind either way. I meant is as a separate point entirely, don’t worry about your hair.”  
“Do you think they’d think I’m lazy if I don’t dry it?”  
“No,”  
“Do you think they’d think I’m lazy for wearing my pyjamas even though it’s early?”  
“No I don’t think so poppet, I think they’ll be envious and probably copy you,”  
“You think?” That idea made him smile, having his little brother and sister wanting to be like him.   
“I think so,” she nodded with a smile of her own.

“Are you nervous angel?”  
“Um,” he didn’t rush to answer, folding the towel back up again and placing it down on the bed carefully. “I, yeah, I guess, a bit, but they’re my family, right? And they’re only little, right? And they won’t remember how sick I was, right?”  
“Sweetheart I think there’s a chance they’ll remember, but that’s a good thing because it means they can see how far you’ve come and be proud of you, whilst also understanding they shouldn’t push you too much.”   
“No, Mom, I don’t want them to remember,”   
“Right, okay sweetie, I don’t know what I can do about it though,”  
“Make them not remember!”  
“I can’t baby,”  
“Make them not remember!”  
“Tyler I can’t do that.”

He started to panic at that point. Up until then he had convinced himself that they were just young children who wouldn’t be aware of where he’d been and so he’d be able to implant a false memory into their thoughts, the idea that he’d been away at college rather than a locked psychiatric facility. He was going to be away at college, like Zack, successful and thriving, like Zack, he was going to pretend to be like Zack and now it was all falling apart because nobody would ever believe he could be like Zack.

“Ty talk to me baby, I thought you were really looking forward to seeing them?” Mom picked up his hand and played with it softly with a concerned frown. “I know it’s a challenge, Mom and Dad know that, and that’s why we’re not going to push you to spend too much time together so early on. All that’s going to happen is they’ll come up and say a quick hello, then Dad’ll take them back downstairs and feed them whilst we stay up here. That’s the only time you have to see them today. You don’t have to eat dinner tonight or breakfast tomorrow together, you don’t have to do anything this evening, in fact you don’t even have to say hello if you don’t want to. Sweetheart if you’re too scared then it’s not too late for me to call Dad and ask him to drop them off with Granny again.”

“What if they hate me Mom?”  
“They won’t.”  
“But what if they do?”  
“They won’t.”  
“But what if?”  
“If they get a bit upset or confused for whatever reason, I’ll take the time to sit with them and explain the situation so they completely understand and accept that you’re in recovery and doing incredibly well and they’ve got no reason to be worried.”

“What if I hurt them?” Tyler squeaked.   
“How would you hurt them sweetie?”  
“I might, I might, what if um, I, I might accidentally get bad again and push them down the stairs?”  
“No you won’t, I’ll make sure of it.”  
“Or break their arms? Dad said I broke their arms before,”  
“That was Zack, and just one arm, and accidentally, and only because he was trying to restrain you when you were high. Maddy and Jay won’t be doing that, and I know you wouldn’t do something like that now you’re clean.”  
“But if I have an episode? Then I might?”  
“Dad and I will be supervising the whole time. If anything remotely not okay starts to happen then we’ll intervene. And sweetheart, we’re not just protecting them, we’ll protect you too, okay? This is going to be completely safe for everyone I promise.”

“Mom,”  
“Yeah?”  
“Mom, what if I can’t?”  
“You can’t manage? Then that’s absolutely fine darling, there’s always other days to try.”  
“But what if I never can? What if I’m never ready? They can’t just live at Grandma and Grandad’s forever. You’ll have to choose, me, or them.”  
“Ty,”  
“We both know it doesn’t make sense to send them away, so it’ll have to be me. If I can’t do this, you’ll have to send me away.”  
“Baby, no. Maybe it will make things a little complex for a while, but we can figure something out I promise, buy you some more time. Tyler you’re getting better, braver, stronger, and I definitely think you can cope with this. If you don’t think today is the day then that’s absolutely fine, but one day I know you’ll be able to manage.”

Tyler could feel his heart pounding, and it was confusing, he didn’t know what he was feeling. He was anxious, yes, and nervous, yes, but not scared away. The rational part of his brain was telling him over and over again that he couldn’t do this, he was being dumb, pushing himself too far and it was going to blow up in his face in the form of panic attacks and psychosis. The sensible voice was telling him this was too much, but his heart wouldn’t listen, yearning for reconnection with his little brother and sister after years apart.

“Will they try to hug me?”   
“Probably,” Mom nodded and his old OCD thoughts flared. “But they’re older now sweetheart, and good at listening, so if you or I tell them not to then they won’t.”  
  
He was about to say something else, but the words vanished from his mind when he heard the distinctive sound of the door downstairs opening and a procession of footsteps.

“...and then Danny’s mom can drive me home afterwards, please Dad!” A young boy was saying.   
“Maybe, talk to your mother Jay, she’s the boss.” Dad answered and Tyler saw Mom smile ever so slightly. “Now remember what we said, nice and quiet.”  
“Where is he?” This time a girl, and she sounded upset.   
“Upstairs probably, HONEY? I’m back, and the kids are with me!” He yelled up to Mom and Tyler couldn’t help but jump at the sound.

“Do you need more time?” Mom whispered discretely and Tyler took a moment to let reason battle with his desire for a reunion, before deciding that he’d already gone far too long without them in his life and couldn’t last another minute.   
“No.”

“We’re up here guys!” Her voice was a strange mix of gentle and loud as she slipped her hand into his and squeezed reassuringly. “You can do this baby, slow deep breaths, yeah?”  
“Yeah,”

The patter of heavy feet climbing up and up the stairs was getting louder and louder, like some twisted drum roll leading up to the big moment. His breath was synced to their pace and when they finally stopped walking, finally made it into the bedroom, finally laid eyes on one another, Tyler’s breath stopped.

“Say hello guys,” Dad prompted them, awkwardly stood in the doorway whilst Tyler absorbed their unfamiliar appearance through distorted tear warped vision. Jay had shot up at least a foot, jaw wider, eyes narrower, same healthy weight filling the gym kit that Tyler remembered seeing all his siblings pass through. He looked older, obviously, and more mature, and yet not so different from the idea that Tyler had in mind when picturing him.

Maddy on the other hand had changed in almost every single way imaginable. Her brown hair that was always in a messy ponytail was now blonde and in a delicate braid swept to one shoulder, her usual gym kit had been replaced by a flattering combination of high waisted jeans and tight black shirt accompanied by a leather jacket, and her face had thinned out a little and was home to expertly applied make up complete with symmetrical flicks of eyeliner. The mascara coating her lashes had already began streaking its way down her face, and she looked like she was on the verge of sobs.

“Hello Tyler,” the 11 year old spoke up first, taking his attention back again.   
“Hey Jay,”   
“Um, whilst you had to go to the doctors I accidentally borrowed your backpack from SuperDry a few times, and it’s in my bedroom, but I can give it back now you’re here!”  
“That’s okay, you can keep it,”  
“I can??” A happy grin appeared on his face, and Tyler nodded tearfully.   
“What do you say kid?” Dad prompted him.   
“Thanks Tyler,”  
“No problem,” the sick man wiped both his cheeks with the sleeve of his pyjama shirt with a sniff.

“Gonna give him a hug?” Dad suggested next, but Jay had barely taken a step forward before Mom stopped him.   
“No no, sweetheart, I think maybe Ty might save hugs for tomorrow, or the day after.”  
“I’m okay Mom, come here little man,” Tyler feigned bravery whilst crouching a little with his arms extended out, just waiting until his youngest brother slotted in perfectly before wrapping them tight and pulling him close. In the background he could faintly hear the screams of OCD going into overdrive, but he ignored them and focussed on the smell of the young boy’s hair.

“I missed you little guy,”   
“I missed you too big guy.”  
“You been looking after the house for me whilst I’ve been away?”  
“Yep.” Jay laughed, then pulled back out of the hug. “Are you living here now?”  
“I think so, if that’s okay with you?”   
“That’s the best news ever!”

“Jay, why don’t you and I go and take a look at that maths homework you were talking about in the car, leave Maddy and Mom to talk to Tyler for a little while?” Their father proposed after a minute.   
“Will you be here when I’m finished?” He turned to Tyler.   
“Promise.” He nodded. “Bye bud,”  
“Byebye,” Jay waved then followed his dad out of the room and across the hall to his own room, leaving Maddy stood alone on the opposite side.

“Angel,” Mom said and both Maddy and Tyler looked over to her, not knowing who she was after. It quickly came apparent that she was talking to Madison as she reached out her arms to her, and so Tyler looked away, trying not to feel jealous, trying to rationalise, trying to stay calm with his teeth plunged into his broken bottom lip.

“Oh baby, I know, I know,” their mother hushed in the manner that Tyler was growing used to as she held her only daughter tight whilst she started to sob. Nobody could deny it was Tyler’s fault that she was so upset, and his own tears increased with the guilt, but somehow he managed to stay standing in the room in spite of his desperation to find a corner and curl up in it.

“I’m s-s-sorry,”  
“Tyler you’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Mom told him over the shoulder of the crying girl, her hand running up and down the back of the younger’s comfortingly. “She just needs a moment, you know what that’s like,”

He nodded with a tearful gulp, nails sinking back into his semi healed palms.

Understanding what was going through her mind was hard when he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken to his sister. The visitation policy had prevented anyone under 18 from seeing him within the walls of the unit, and she’d never come along to his single hour of unescorted leave in the park every other week in the most recent of months - not that he would have been able to manage a reunion in such a high anxiety situation. That being said, he wasn’t so sure he could manage it today either. With each whimpering cry of hers, the guilt on his shoulders quadrupled.

“Ty, do you need to use some grounding techniques?” Mom was still keeping an eye on him, even with another crying child in her embrace. He knew she was right, she could spot the spiral that he was feeling the symptoms of as his heartbeat pounded against his eardrums and his swallow got caught in his throat and his vision started to spin as it flicked around rapidly, constantly trying to find something to look at which might stem the tears, but never being successful.

“S’okay,” Maddy managed to hiccup through her tears, slowly stepping out of their mom’s hold but hiding her face behind a shaking hand. “Y-your turn with M-Mom Ty,” she tried to make a joke but Tyler took her up on the offer and went up for his cuddle, Mom clutching him tight and pressing her lips against his temple with a gentle soothing sway from side to side and a hush to accompany it.

For a little he let her hold him, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to calm down, but knowing that Maddy was hovered only a few feet away meant he knew he wouldn’t be able to completely settle until the situation was dealt with. And that line of thought made him angry, he didn’t want to see her as some sort of bomb that needed to be diffused for his own personal well-being, she was his sister and someone who meant a great deal to him but had been put through an awful ordeal by his past actions, and deserved an apology but also an opportunity to get mad at him, and no matter how terrified he might be, he had to let her do it so they could move forward.

“Do you need some privacy?” Mom meant did she need to kick Maddy out.   
“N-no,” He sniffed and moved enough for her to get the hint that he didn’t want to be hugged any longer, giving him the ability to take a step away and therefore a step closer to his crying sister.

“You look well.” Maddy managed to whisper first.   
“I do?”  
“Yeah, you, um, you look rested, a-and you’ve gained a bit of weight, and, and you’re skin is, uh,” she tried to look for a politically correct way of saying not shredded to smithereens. “Is healing.”  
“I eat every single d-day and I’m 8 m-months clean from cutting.”  
“Good, that’s, that’s really good Tyler.” They still hadn’t made eye contact yet.

“I like your hair.” It was his turn to say something.   
“Have you seen it dyed before?”   
“You got it done for your birthday, didn’t you sweetheart? So he wouldn’t have had the chance until now.” Mom reminded her and Tyler nodded a little in agreement.   
“Oh yeah,”  
“It’s nice.”  
“Thanks.”

“How, um, how have you been?”  
“Good yeah, yeah, just, um, just, you know, school and uh, and basketball and stuff, went to summer camp? And yeah, just uh, just trying, um, trying to uh, to, to - I’ve not been so good Ty.”  
“No?”  
“No.” They found each other’s line of vision in that moment, and Tyler got to watch as she fell apart. She had the same bad habit of biting into her bottom lip as the sobs started flowing through her once again, and before he even realised what he was doing, suddenly he was cradling her head to his hammering heart and resting his chin on her crown, clinging onto her like their lives depended on it. At first she resisted a little, but before long she collapsed against his chest, not hugging back but instead resting one of her small hands against his flat pec with her fingers reaching towards his hollow collar bone.

“I’ve been so s-sc-a-ared-d,”  
“I’m okay,”  
“Y-you’re n-n-not-t,”  
“I am!” Tyler cried out, not aggressively, just protectively of his own progress. He had come far and he wouldn’t let anyone say otherwise. “I, I, I, I eat everyday! And I’m 8 months clean! And, a-and!” He couldn’t think of any other achievements but she wasn’t listening anyway.

“You’re n-n-not T-Ty-Tyl-ler,”  
“I am!”  
“He’s g-go-one, you’re not T-Tyler,”  
“I am Tyler, Mom, Mom I’m Tyler, aren’t I?” He twisted to see her wiping away a single tear from where she was perched against the closest bed.   
“Yes baby, of course you’re Tyler. Maddy don’t confuse him.” Her voice had a false sweetness to it. “I get what you’re trying to say but now’s not the time.”  
“I’m still Tyler.” Again that familiar sinking sensation came over him as he whispered out loud.

He knew a lot had changed, he knew he’d changed, he knew the ongoing battle with mental health had taken a lot from him, but it was the first time anyone other than the voices had said he wasn’t himself anymore.

“I’m still me Maddy,” he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.   
“Ty,” she hiccuped before burying her face further into his shirt. “I m-m-miss y-you, I miss you, pl-l-e-ease, c-come b-b-back to u-us Ty-l-ler,”  
“Madison, if you can’t help yourself but say those kinds of things then maybe you need a little timeout, because we don’t want either of you two getting wound up and hysterical.” Mom intervened and Tyler knew she meant he would have an episode if his little sister carried on saying he was gone. And maybe he would, anything could trigger him these days, it wasn’t as simple as hallucinating Josh’s dead body anymore, he could hallucinate anything, he could be hallucinating right now, it could all be a big hallucination. And with that he was hyperventilating.

“Madison, let go. Give him some space.” Their mother commanded and instantly he was released. “Tyler, I want you to think of a fruit or vegetable for every letter of the alphabet, okay? Okay?”  
“Okay,” he nodded tearfully with hands thrust into his short hair as he started to pace.

Apricot. Banana. Cabbage. Dragon fruit.

“I miss my big brother Mom,” Maddy was crying against Mom’s chest again and distracting Tyler.

Dragon fruit. Eggplant. Fig. Grapes.

“He’s never coming back, is he?”  
“He’s right there Maddy, right in front of you.”

Grapes. H..., H, something beginning with H?

“Mom? H?”  
“Honeydew melon sweetie.” Mom gave him an answer so he could continue pacing.

Honeydew melon. Iceberg lettuce. Jackfruit. Kiwi.

“I want him to be him, I w-want him to be Tyler, I w-w-want T-T-Tyler,”

Kiwi. Lemon. Melon. Nectarine. Onion.

“He’s getting better everyday. He’s got better just since we brought him home. Give him some time and he’ll be more and more comfortable and able to be himself.”

Onion. Papaya. Quince. Radish.

“And people change all the time sweetie, I bet he thinks you’ve changed too.”

Radish. Sweet potato. Tomato. U...?

“U?”  
“Ooh, tricky one, I don’t think there is one poppet. Skip it for now, and skip X too, then we can check on the Internet later.”

Vanilla. Watermelon. Check the internet. Yam. Zucchini.

“I want him back Mom, I want things to go back to how they were.”  
“I finished Mom.”  
“You found one for Z?”  
“Yeh, zucchini,”   
“Oh wow, good thinking baby, well done.”  
“Can I have another topic? Please?”  
“Absolutely. How about, hmmm, celebrities?”  
“We did it yesterday. Together.”  
“Oh yes, so we did, sorry baby. Alright, what about adjectives? Describing words?”  
“Okay.” He went back to pacing.

Abnormal. Burdensome. Cowardly. Damaged.

“And as for you Maddy, you can wish for things to be how they were as much as you like but it won’t change anything. If you need to mourn the person he was then that’s fine, but don’t let that prevent you from getting to know the new person your brother’s becoming. Watching him emerge, it’s exciting and an honour, and I’d hate for you to not be a part of the process. Don’t miss out on this bond because you’re too focussed on something that can never be.”

“Mom I don’t like this one,” he couldn’t think of anything positive.   
“Adjectives?”  
“No,”  
“No, okay sweetie, can you try animals you might find in the zoo instead then?”  
“Okay,” he gulped.

“Adelie penguin.” Maddy spoke up softly. “For A, Adelie penguin.”  
“Oh, yeah, okay. And baboon? For B?” Tyler sniffed, looking to her as she nodded nervously.


	6. I Think Therefore I ‘Gram

For the first time since coming home, Tyler didn’t wake up with a gasp. Instead he woke up naturally, with slow blinks and soft light creeping under the blinds, and the gentle hum of family life in the background.

“Mom? Have you seen my earphones?”  
“They’re on your desk,”  
“They’re not anymore, who moved them? Jay? Jay did you take my earphones?”  
“Nope!”  
“The bus is going to be here in like 5 minutes! I need my earphones!”  
“Madison they won’t have grown legs and walked off by themselves. Where did you last see them?”

The domestic squabbling of his family was something that he felt fond towards. The arguments on Cygnet usually involved tortured screaming, and huge teams of people restraining the offender until either medication rendered them semi conscious or they screamed their voice raw.

The petty quarrelling made a nice change. It made him feel at home at last.

“I told you! My desk!”  
“Oi, don’t use that tone with your mother young lady,” a deeper voice.   
“Chris it’s fine. Why do you need your earphones anyway, don’t you just talk to Katie the whole ride?”  
“Yeah but she slept over at Molly’s last night so she’s getting the other bus so I’m gonna be all by myself and I’ll look weird and, eugh, please! Can someone find my earphones because I have to go!”  
“Calm down missy. If you’re that desperate, we bought Tyler a new phone which he hasn’t used yet, the earphones are still in the box which is on his desk. If you promise to be so so careful not to wake him then you can borrow those for today.”  
“Thank you thank you!”  
“Quiet as possible please, it’s his first time sleeping in and he really struggled to drift off last night. I had to get him some extra sleeping pills at half 2 this morning. Just let him rest and don’t disturb him.”  
“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, he won’t even stir.”

If he wasn’t already awake, Tyler was quiet sure that Maddy’s less than elegant, clunky echoing footsteps scrambling up the stairs would have woken him up. She was many things, but graceful wasn’t one of them, and he was glad that hadn’t changed.

To her credit, she managed to be gentle with the door, opening it slowly and smoothly, but as soon as she made eye contact with him she sighed.

“Morning, sorry, I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean to wake you.” She whispered guiltily.   
“You didn’t, I was already up.” His voice was croaky and a little on the sore side, but he couldn’t remember a recent screaming battle. Maybe he was getting sick.   
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeh,”  
“Sure?”  
“Think so,” he nodded, shuffling a little to sit up, blanket still tucked up high for him to cower behind.

“Mom thinks I’m asleep, doesn’t she?” Tyler said a moment later, watching intensely as she went over to his desk and opened up the iPhone box. Mom had got the shattered screen replaced but thankfully hadn’t brought up the idea of him using it.

“Uh, yeah, yeah she does.”   
“Can you keep it that way please? Don’t tell her?”  
“Don’t you need your medication soon though?”  
“I’ll have them I promise, just, um, just later.” He gulped and she nodded, not knowing all the battles, both internal and external, behind the process of swallowing a few little pills. “Please Maddy?”  
“Course. She’ll probably be up pretty soon anyway.”  
“I know,” Tyler yawned honestly.

“I’m just borrowing your earphones for the bus, I’ll drop them back as soon as I get home I promise.” She had them in her hands, dangling the strange white cord in presentation to him. “Is that okay?”  
“Course.”  
“I have to go otherwise I’ll be late, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” he forced a tired smile with a little understanding nod.

“You sure you’re okay?”  
“I, um, yeah no I’m fine, enjoy school.”  
“Do you need to talk?”  
“You’re gonna be late.”  
“Doesn’t matter, not important in comparison to you.”  
“S’fine, honest.”

With that, Maddy walked back over to the door and for a brief second Tyler thought he’d succeeded.

“DAD!”  
“Madison! Keep your flipping voice down!” Mom whisper screamed from the distance.   
“Mom! Can you ask Dad if he can drive me to school a bit later so I don’t have to get the bus??”  
“Don’t be lazy, Dad wants to stay home with Ty, you come down here now and get going to the bus stop or else you’re gonna miss it.”  
“Please Mom! Ty’s upset, I just want to talk to him!”

Predictably, Maddy’s words were followed by the hurried sounds of Mom racing up the stairs in blind panic at the suggestion that Tyler was upset. She was overprotective beyond reason but Tyler would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed her sometimes smothering grip on him. And it seemed like Madison had forgotten his earlier appeal for secrecy regarding his wake up.

“Get out, give him some privacy,” She barged straight into the room, stress evident on her creased forehead.   
“Mom I’m fine,” Tyler whispered to the ground.   
“Madison! Out!”  
“I’m fine Mom.”  
“How many times Maddy?! Leave!”  
“MOM!” Tyler snapped, frustrated at her lack of attention to the words coming out of his mouth. “Sorry, sorry, I just, sorry,”  
“What is it baby?” Her frown grew deeper.   
“I wanna talk to Maddy,”  
“Huh?”  
“Maddy, I, I, I, I want to walk, talk, I meant talk, I want to talk to Maddy.”  
“See, told you.” His sister’s voice wasn’t bold nor confident, in fact it bordered on a whisper.

“Ty, baby, you don’t have to.”  
“I want to.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m sure.”  
“Really?”  
“Mom, he said what he wants.” Maddy spoke up again.

“Fine.” She sighed a moment later. “Okay, I’ll go tell Dad you’ll need a ride Madison, and then I’ll come back and sit outside so I’ll only be a second away if you need me Tyler, okay?”  
“Okay,” he nodded.   
“Maddy, come get me if he needs me.”  
“I will.” Maddy nodded as well.   
“And you’re both sure about this?”  
“We’re sure.” She nodded again. “Honest Mom, I promise I’ll look after him, I promise.”  
“Tyler, baby, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, and you can ask her to leave whenever you need. She understands that your wellbeing is our priority. Love you.” Mom turned to face him again and he just nodded numbly, hating that he needed so much hand holding but simultaneously terrified of not having it. Mom sighed again, ruffled his hair, rearranged it for him again, then turned to leave with a gentle pull on the door handle to almost close it. Almost.

“So,” Maddy sat down next to him on the mattress and he couldn’t help his immediate instinct to shy away a little.   
“You don’t, um, we don’t, you know, we don’t have to uh, to actually talk.”  
“Huh? What do you mean? I thought you wanted to?”  
“I was just, just going along so you don’t have to get the, um, the, the bus without K-Katie.” Tyler gulped. “Now, n-now Dad’s gonna drive you,”  
“Oh,”

“Did I do the wrong thing?”  
“No no, that was really thoughtful of you Ty, thanks,” she was quick to amend any issue with a hurried shake of her head, then a smile.   
“S’okay.”  
“I’d still like to talk though, if that’s okay?”  
“Um, I-I guess?”

“Yesterday was, well, a shock to say the least. I had about 40 minutes between Dad telling me you’d been discharged and me actually seeing you. It was all just a bit overwhelming, a lot to try and wrap my head around in such a short stretch of time. I’m sorry if my, um, my hysterics were offensive or scary or spooked you in anyway.”

Tyler didn’t reply instantly, just took a few seconds to remember everything she’d said. She wanted her brother back, she wanted Tyler back, and he couldn’t be who she wanted anymore. She didn’t recognise him as her big brother, and even though it was true, it hurt.

“S’fine,” it wasn’t.   
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m sure.” He was sure that it wasn’t. She didn’t need to know that.

“I missed you Ty,”  
“Missed you too.” His whispers skipped over some of the sounds.   
“Did you think about me? When you were away?”  
“Course.” That was true. “I had a picture of you next to my bed, and I’d say goodnight to it every evening.”  
“You did?” She had a small but growing smile.   
“Yeh,”

“What was it like? The hospital? Was it good?”  
“Depends what you mean by good.” Tyler focussed on the threads of his duvet rather than his sister’s anxiously watching eyes.   
“I dunno, what was it like? What did they do to you? Did you make any friends?” Maddy asked but Tyler got stuck on the second question that she’d asked so flippantly. What had they done to him? What had they turned him into? What had he become?

“Sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.” He must have been thinking for a while because she felt the need to retract her line of questioning.   
“Um, it, um, yeah, yeah it was okay I guess. Made some friends. The food, uh, the food was pretty good.” Tyler lied again.   
“I thought they fed you through a tube.” Her voice was fearful. “Mom said so.”  
“I was on NG feeds for a few months, but, but, but, but only because they poisoned the food.”  
“Poison?”  
“Yeah, but I’m better now, I’m better, and I eat everyday now, every single day.”   
“Yeah, you told my yesterday, that’s really good Ty,” Maddy smiled and so he forced one too.

“So go on, tell me about your friends then.”  
“They’re all really nice, and, uh, and welcoming when I got admitted, and kind, really kind, and yeah.” Any word to explain a friend escaped his imagination as he realised he didn’t have a single person in his life who vaguely resembled a friend anymore. He didn’t even know why he was lying to his sister, it was pathetic.   
“Any cute boys?”  
“Not as cute as Josh.” The sentence had left his lips before he’d even realised what he was saying, and both he and Maddy sat in uneasy silence, not knowing what to say or how to react.

“He got into law school, did you know that?”  
“I heard, yeah, that’s uh, that’s really impressive. Good for him.”

“Is he seeing anyone?” Tyler wanted to know if his mom had been sheltering him, and knew Maddy would tell him the truth.   
“Urmmm,” shit shit shit shit, “don’t think so,” liar liar liar liar, “he posted this adorable photo with some guy the other day, lemme just check the caption quickly.”

He watched as Maddy slipped her phone out of her pocket and pressed the button so it lit up to a home screen covered in notifications, and when Tyler saw the third one, his heart skipped a beat.

Joshuadun just posted a photo!

“Hm, speak of the devil. He’s so bad at instagram bless him, everyone knows you gotta post at 9pm if you want likes because that’s when everyone’s online.” she laughed a little as she swiped it across and quickly typed in her code - her birthday - and after a second of loading, the screen switched to a photo of Josh.

He looked, he looked amazing. His hair was dyed blue but long faded, leaving behind a gentle pastel tinged with sea green and dark exposed roots adding even more colour. A tight black hoodie stretched over his obviously muscular frame and the hood was half falling off the back of his head in an effortlessly cool look. In his arms he was cradling a cat, her tail wafting against his jawline, and a huge white grin reaching his eyes. The image was captioned ‘Living my best life’.

Tyler’s stomach dropped and he felt tears begin to prick along his lash lines - Josh’s best life was without him in it.

“Ah look, here’s the one I meant.” Maddy scrolled through half a dozen brand new images that Tyler desperately tried to get a glimpse of but failed before pausing on an image of Josh being held bridal style by someone who looked vaguely like someone they went to school with together. Justin? Dustin? He decided it was Dustin. That wasn’t important though, what was important was another man was holding his man, and Josh looked happy about it.

“The caption says two bros being bros, #guysbeingdudes, is that code for something? I dunno, I might be overthinking it, but does that mean they’re a couple, like, like gay slang or something?”  
“Gay slang?” Tyler echoed, still staring at the picture on the phone through increasingly blurry vision.   
“Yeah, you know how you guys have names for different ‘types’?”  
“No?”  
“Like bear and twink and otter, and, I don’t know! I feel silly saying this!” She giggled with red cheeks, not noticing Tyler had started to cry. “I just thought maybe that was another subtype or something? Maybe I’m trying to read between the lines too much or maybe- Oh Ty,”

“I’m fine,” Tyler raced across the room and pulled a tissue from the box whilst facing the wall and rushing to clean himself up, ashamed his sister was seeing him being so weak and pathetic but simultaneously heartbroken.

“I’m probably imagining things, he would have told me if he was dating again-“  
“Again? Was there someone else??” Tyler span on the spot to face her.   
“You. He dated you.”  
“After me, has there been anybody since me??”   
“I don’t think so?” Maddy wasn’t sure and that doubt was enough to trigger Tyler’s tears to progress to sobs.

“Oh Tyler I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have known it would be too much and you’d get worked up, I’m so sorry. Should I get Mom?”  
“D-Don’t-t!”  
“Ty I have to, I’m sorry but I promised I’d look after you and I’d get her if you need her, and you need her.”  
“I need J-o-osh!”   
“MOM!”

 

 

  
“Hey lovebug,” Mom walked into the living room, gently closing the door behind her and tiptoeing over to where Tyler was cuddled up on the couch under his weighted blanket, just resting after an emotionally draining morning and week and year.

“Hi,”  
“How you feeling poppet?”  
“Ok,”  
“Good,” she smiled whilst crouching by his head. “It’s 3pm and I put in your schedule this morning that we could try doing a 15 minute walk around the garden together so you could get some fresh air. It’s optional, you don’t have to, but I thought I’d come check whether that’s something you’d like to try? Or whether you’re happy just having a little timeout?”  
“Do I h-have to?”  
“No,”  
“Can, um, can I just stay here then? Please.”  
“Course you can baby,” his mom nodded, then sat down on the carpet next to the sofa.

“Would you like me to turn on the television?”  
“Why?”  
“Why? Well you could watch something. If you’re bored then it might be entertaining, if you’re overthinking then it might be a distraction, or it might just be enjoyable to watch something funny. I have a whole bunch of Whose line is it anyway saved for you since they always used to be your favourite, or we could explore something else? It’s up to you.”

“The TV talked to me.”  
“Okay, just now it did? And what did it say Ty?” Mom stayed calm.   
“Not now, back, um, back before hospital. After Debby, uh, after, after she, uh, after she,”  
“She passed,”  
“After she passed, it used to talk to me, the people on the news used to talk to me.”  
“The news anchors? What did they used to say to you poppet?”  
“It, um, they used to talk in code, but they used to say things, bad things, like I should kill myself.”  
“Oh no, that’s not very nice baby, I’m sorry they used to do that,” Mom frowned sympathetically.

“They used to say my name a lot, all the time, and they could see me and see what I was doing and sometimes they would like, uh, like narrate what I was doing as I was doing it, or tell me I was doing things wrong and everybody hated me because of it, and, and I dunno, that kind of thing,” Tyler sniffed.   
“That’s what the news anchors used to say? Or the voices?”  
“Both.”  
“And do they still do that? Or just before Cygnet?”  
“Not so much anymore. Sometimes, but not so much.”  
“Well you tell Momma if they start playing up, and I’ll look after you darling, try and make them leave you alone.”  
“Okay.”

Tyler shifted a little then resettled on the couch, pulling the blanket up a little higher around his shoulders with a yawn.

“Do you need a nap?”  
“I’m not tired.”  
“Okay sweetie.”

He liked the living room, it was open and airy and decorated with framed pictures of the family. There were many without him, but equally as many including him, and Mom had done a good job of finding ones with him smiling and without self harm wounds or scars on show. If a stranger were to walk into the room, they would have no idea he’d had a psychotic breakdown and been gone for 14 months.

“Mom,”  
“Yes Ty?”  
“Why don’t you have any pictures of Josh up in here?”  
“Remember this can be quite a triggering topic for you baby, let’s try our best to not get upset again like this morning.”  
“I’m not upset, I just want to know. Why are there no pictures?”  
“Because these are family portraits, and Josh is a family friend but that’s not quite the same as family.”

Tyler wanted to argue otherwise, say of course he was family, yell that Josh’s family folded him out of all their family portraits when he came out, cry that Josh deserved a family and they could offer him that. He could offer him that. But instead all he did was nod ever so slightly. Mom didn’t seem to care that Josh was framed and immortalised on nobody’s wall.

“Do you think about him a lot Tyler?”  
“Every single day.” He didn’t hesitate. “Every day.”  
“Does he ever come and visit you sweetie?”  
“He wasn’t allowed. It was immediate family only.”  
“At Cygnet, yeah, but I meant does he ever materialise for you?”  
“Do I ever hallucinate him?” Tyler tried to pluck the questions from the words. “Not anymore.”

“Do you miss seeing him? Even if he wasn’t real?”  
“My chest aches constantly and my mouth tastes like iron and copper when I think about how long it’s been since I last saw his face. When I blink it’s blurry now, it’s a fading memory, and I can’t remember the angles of his eyelids or the constellation of his freckles anymore and it makes me want to die.”  
“But you understand and appreciate that dying wouldn’t bring you closer together, right?”  
“At least that way I’d be able to hear his voice when he prays. If I stay here then I get nothing, no contact, no smile, no words. Nothing.”  
“But existence holds possibility. Death is final.” Mom replied from her place on the carpet beside him.

“You told me I couldn’t see him, that you’d tell him to stay away.”  
“You need to prioritise yourself for the near future. You’ve only been home a handful of days, we haven’t left the house yet, we haven’t seen Zack yet, we haven’t had a home visit from Dr Wakefield yet and you haven’t had a psychotic episode yet to see if we can cope with one. There are lots and lots of things that have to come first, not because I want things to get in between you two for the sake of it, but because things need to be done in the right order so that you have the skills and the confidence to progress to bigger and harder challenges.”

A voice whispered that he couldn’t skip straight to dessert, he had to eat his greens, and he resisted the urge to laugh. Laughing was a sign of madness. Madness disrupted his route to Josh.

“I cannot and will not promise that you’ll be rewarded with some huge reunion with Joshua at-“  
“Josh. His parents called him Joshua and they used to cane him and lock him in the basement. Call him Josh.”  
“With Josh at the end of all of this. I can’t promise he will want a relationship. What I will do, and you can hold me to this, is I will keep in mind that you want to see him, and, if you’re doing well and genuinely up to the enormous challenge, I will tell him you’re home and invite him round for coffee-“  
“Today?” Tyler scrambled to sit up.  
“No no no, Ty, no, not today-“  
“Tomorrow??” He asked hopefully.   
“Sweethea-“  
“Please Mom, pretty please!”  
“Months, Tyler, we’re talking months into the future.” She trod on his heart. “I want this to go well, I don’t want for you to see him and get overwhelmed and spiral and hallucinate and potentially hurt yourself and ruin your chance to show him all the improvements you’ve made-“  
“I eat everyday! And I’m 8 months clean!”  
“And Momma’s really proud of you baby, really proud, but right now we need to focus on working on your anxiety and your coping strategies for when you feel overwhelmed, because seeing Josh again will make you anxious and will overwhelm you, and I want to get to a point where you can overcome that and manage to sit with him and maybe talk to him, not have to go in another room with me to calm down.”

“Does that sound reasonable?” She asked a moment later.   
“Why can’t I see him now though?”  
“You been listening to Momma angel? Or are you a bit distracted?”  
“I listened! I did!”  
“So why does Momma think it’s best to wait? Can you remember?”  
“I heard I just, I, I, you don’t think I’m ready, but I am,”  
“Sweetheart, a picture on Maddy’s phone gave you a panic attack this morning.”  
“Only because I was anxious about talking to her! It’s not Josh’s fault!”  
“It’s nobody’s fault, we’re not playing the blame game, it’s nobody’s fault Tyler. All I’m doing is stating an observation in hope of making you more aware of your current position.” Mom’s voice was steady and controlled with an undertone of pity that Tyler loathed.

“Please Mom, I love him.” Tyler whispered a long dragged out moment later.   
“I know you do poppet, I know you do, and that’s why I’ve changed my mind about whether or not to let him be a part of your recovery. If he inspires you to get better, if you find it helpful to have something, someone, to work towards then of course I’ll support that because ultimately I want you to be happy, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw logic out the window. I still need to have my sensible head on and think for you rationally when you can’t for yourself, I still need to protect you Tyler, and one way I can do that is by keeping you two apart until you’re safer and more stable. And that day will come, you’re on the right track, just don’t risk it all by trying to take any shortcuts please baby, we have to do this discharge process once and do this well to ensure you don’t spend your life institutionalised. Don’t throw away the opportunity of a lifetime of having your section appeal granted because you’re not patient enough to wait a few more weeks.”

“You think I’ll spend my life institutionalised?”  
“No, because you’re going to do this so slowly and so steadily and so carefully that there’s no conceivable way for you to trip.”

 

 

  
Tyler didn’t understand why Maddy had said Josh was bad at Instagram. How could you be good at Instagram? What was the goal? What was everyone competing over? Was it followers? Or follower-following ratios? Or number of likes? Or number of comments? Or quality of comments? Or quality of pictures? Or captions? Tyler didn’t know, and the more he scrolled through the suggested accounts of random celebrities when he set up his own, the less he understood. It didn’t take long for him to get bored of the sponsored posts promoting teeth whitening kits and slimming teas, and to move onto inspecting Josh’s account instead.

He wasn’t the best with technology, both skill wise and mental health wise. The iPhone had come a long way since he’d last used one, and the whole setup was completely different. As well as trying to get his head round the latest IOS update, he was also battling distant paranoid ideas of listening devices and cameras within the phone being used to spy on him, and electronic germs infecting his blood stream with each tap. It made things a struggle for the first 20 minutes, but eventually he’d managed to go through the process of setting up his new phone and first Instagram account under the false name Jason Rendle, and was 4 months deep into Josh’s feed.

In his admittedly biased opinion, Josh was very good at Instagram. He posted, on average, twice a week, always with a witty caption, never with too many filters, consistently and effectively hiding the depression Mom had hinted at on leave the other week, and talking sufficiently often about his cat for Tyler to be classed as an expert.

Tyler was finding it upsetting to see how much life Josh was living whilst he cowered in the corner of the couch, too scared to even leave the house, but curiosity and desire far surpassed the starts of distress. He wanted to know what Josh had been up to because he genuinely cared. He wanted to hear it in Josh’s words, just how they used to spend every evening on the phone just talking about their days, even if they’d spent them together, when they first started dating; except this sharing took the form of small type punctuated with emojis rather than a honey husk voice that Tyler loved so dearly. Nonetheless it was special, and Tyler could imagine Josh saying each and every word.

As he looked at square picture after square picture, he imagined Josh getting into the pose, imagined the conversation he’d have with his photographer, how he’d laugh and mess about and need a hundred pictures just to find one single serious image, and how he’d smirk at his own captions and spend hours meticulously picking the exact emojis he wanted. It was as though each image came alive, it told a story beyond the pixels, and Tyler found himself immersed in a world of Josh.

The next post showed 4 beautiful strangers, no doubt models of some description, all tanned, 3 females in flattering and exposing outfits and faces enhanced with bold contouring and false lashes that only added to their beauty. An equally tanned man sat between two of them, dressed in a sharp black blazer over a casual grey tshirt and blonde hair tucked just behind his ears. To the right of all of them was Josh peering into the photo, fingers holding the brim of his cap as he pretended to barge in, posing adorably.

Joshuadun: This one’s called “yung Olaf photo bombs the tan kids” - he’d captioned it, and Tyler smiled. Where he’d met the tan kids was a story he hoped one day he’d get to hear, but for the meanwhile he allowed his imagination to form some story of Josh saving one of them from a mugging and being invited to their party in thanks, letting him mingle with models and artists and billionaires. It most likely wasn’t true, but that didn’t really matter.

Tyler knew he shouldn’t be doing it. He knew Mom would say it was triggering and everyone would say it was immoral to have a fake account just to stalk his ex, but Tyler would argue he was doing exposure tasks by using his phone, and nobody was going to find out anyway. He made sure never to accidentally like a picture, and he had a game of solitaire ongoing in another app so he could quickly switch back to if anyone tried to look at his screen, but he knew they wouldn’t because Dad was on duty, and he wasn’t the most diligent.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t try or didn’t care, he still came in to check on him every 5 or so minutes, but it usually consisted of popping his head round the door rather than pushing for in depth updates, but that was okay because he was okay. Being in a world of Josh made him feel okay.

Mom was on the school run, picking up Jay and dropping off gym shorts to Maddy who’d forgotten them for her 2 hour after school basketball practice. She’d mentioned maybe she’d stick around and watch some of Maddy’s practice, but Tyler knew full well that she wouldn’t. It had been a battle for Dad to convince her to even leave the house and Tyler in the first place, insisting she have a break, but there was no way she’d be gone for longer than she had to.

“All good kiddo?” Dad did his next check and Tyler nodded. “Lemme know if you need anything,”  
“Will do.”  
“Alrighty,” He waltzed back out again to return to his seat in the kitchen.

It was far more logical for Dad to just join him in the living room, rather than getting up every couple of minutes, but Tyler really respected and appreciated what he was doing. He was giving him space. He was giving him space and privacy and personal time, and after months and months without it, Tyler almost felt indebted to him. It was the little things he had recently started noticing and appreciating in his parents’ treatment of him that made him love them even more.

 

 

For the first time since arriving back home, Tyler was looking forward to going to bed and actually smiled when Mom told him it was time to start his evening routine. Usually bedtime meant darkness and unrest and nightmares, but that evening he craved his bed, the soft sheets and the thick duvet and his mom just inches away. Cygnet’s mattress was blue and plastic and above the door was a clear plastic panel that shone bright harsh light through from the corridor all night long, a nurse would come check on him every hour and would always wake him up all over again, and it was when the screaming from sicker patients was most intense and his pangs of homesickness were at their strongest.

At home it was warm, and he had his mom.

“You’re in a very cuddly mood tonight angel.” Mom smiled as Tyler brushed up against her then slotted into her arms once again. “You feeling okay?”  
“Sleepy,” he nuzzled against her as she rocked them ever so slightly in a soothing rhythm.   
“Well you’ve have a busy couple of days baby, emotional adventures are tiring.”  
“Draining,”  
“Yeah, exactly.” She kissed his temple gently. “But you’re doing so well,”  
“Today’s been my best day.”  
“I agree sweetheart, you’ve been really calm today, really stable. Little wobble this morning but since then you’ve handled everything really well. I mean eating nearly all your dinner? That’s a huge step and I’m so incredibly proud, so incredibly proud.”

“I’m so thankful you’re home Tyler,” Mom squeezed him closer, and even with his face buried in her soft shoulder, pressed against her, he knew she was tearing up. “When we appealed your section last week, at the tribunal, they were being so harsh, had such high expectations of you, and I really thought they weren’t going to let me have you back baby. It was nearly 3 hours long, just listening to these doctors bickering over how dangerous it would be to discharge you, and I was crying and crying. But you know what? You’re proving them wrong, you’re proving them all wrong, and I knew you would.”

“They, those same doctors, they used to make me sit in on a meeting every Monday morning with all my care team, it was supposed to be an evaluation of the previous week and goal setting for the upcoming.”  
“Yeah,” Mom listened closely. “They used to send me a summary of all their notes from them at the end of each month.”  
“They just, they, they, they’d always say I wasn’t trying, and I was.”  
“I know you were baby.”  
“I tried so hard all the time to reach their targets, but they were too difficult! And I always asked for ones I could actually have any hope of meeting but they refused to change them until I met them, but I could never meet them.”  
“You’ve got to walk before you can run, and they were expecting you to be able to sprint,” she understood exactly what he’d been feeling for so long, and it felt so good.

“Almost all the other patients, they got phone privileges if they showed up to group therapy, 20 minutes on the payphone to your family every night, and I asked for phone privileges too because I nearly always turned up voluntarily, but they said no! They said I shouldn’t get a reward for doing the bare minimum!”  
“That’s not fair, that’s really not fair, but try to remember that their failure to reward you doesn’t diminish the quality of your achievement Tyler. You still did a really good job of going to group, even though they didn’t give you phone time, and I’m sorry they treated you differently from the others baby because you didn’t deserve it.”

“They hated me.”   
“They didn’t hate you.”  
“They did Mom, they really did!”  
“The staff were strict with everybody, you don’t know what was being said in everybody else’s weekly review Ty, maybe they were being told off twice as much. And besides, what reason could they possibly have to not like you? You’re an angel.” Mom squeezed him even close, her hand reaching up to play with his hair.

“I used to punch them and kick them and scream in their faces all the ti-“  
“When you were really really acute, but you’ve come a long way since then Ty,”  
“I still have episodes, there were still times when I needed to be restrained really recently, like even just last week Mom.”  
“They don’t hate you because you need a little assistance every now and then, it’s their job to provide that aid, it’s their job, they’re paid to do it, they chose to do it, they must want to do it or else they wouldn’t work there. Cygnet didn’t hate you because you’re sick.”

“Mom, I’m really scared you and Dad will hate me if I relapse with psychosis and have an episode,”  
“Oh baby,” She tutted. “No no no, absolutely not, no. We’re your parents sweetheart, your mom and dad, we could never ever hate you, never. You’re our whole world, you and your siblings, and nothing will ever change that for Momma, okay?”  
“But what if I hurt someone?”  
“You won’t hurt anyone, we’ll make sure of it baby, we’ll look after you I promise.” Mom hushed him a little. “You won’t touch anyone, we’ll just keep you safe until you’re able to be responsible for yourself again. But even if there is some slip up, I know and Dad knows that it is not within your control and because of that we won’t hold it against you, and it definitely won’t act as a reason to hate you. We will never hate you, you’re our baby, baby.”

“Did you think we hated you? Did you think that was why we admitted you?” Mom finally released him from the hug, but moved her hand up to cup his face, thumb stroking along his jaw soothingly.   
“Yeah,” he gulped glumly, not making eye contact. “But I recognise it as delusional now,”  
“I’m proud of you.” Her lips made contact with his forehead for a brief second and Tyler knew it was the exact spot he had a scar in the rough shape of a circle, a consequence of repeatedly banging his head against the wall until it broke the skin and swelled like an egg. It had been a nightly occurrence for months. He knew he looked like an idiot with the lump, and now, even with it gone, he had a permanent mark to take front and centre of every first impression.

“Do you like fish darling?”  
“Fish?” He was confused. “Like, to eat? Or as an animal?”  
“Animal,” she chuckled a little, stepping back at long last. “I was just thinking about what you said, about not getting a reward, so I was thinking of a reward scheme that might also double as something quite calming for you to have in your room if you need something to watch but don’t feel up to the TV. I was thinking a sticker chart for managing your schedule, achievable but still challenging things like taking meds and eating meals,”  
“Yeah,” Tyler listened, not embarrassed by the fact he adored stickers.   
“Then once you get a certain number, like a full row or something, we could get you a bigger reward. How about pet fish? After each row you could get something new for their tank, like those little treasure chest things that go at the bottom, shipwrecks, plants, that kind of thing. Then every 10 or so rows we could get you another fish, really pretty tropical fish with the pretty shiny scales?” Mom thought aloud whilst Tyler played with his fingers.

“How does that sound sweetie?”  
“I, um, I don’t, I don’t know, it’s a lot of responsibility. What if I do something wrong and kill them?”  
“Well it doesn’t have to be your responsibility solely to look after them if you don’t want it to be, I’ll help you, or maybe we could ask your siblings to do it with you? That could potentially be a nice little thing to do together if you feel up to it? Just feed the fish each morning?”  
“Maybe.”

“Alright, you don’t have to decide tonight angel, it was just a silly idea and if you can think of a reward that you’re much more eager to receive then we’ll rehash the plan tomorrow, or drop it completely if you’re not feeling it. I think for now we should just hope into bed and try and get some sleep, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler nodded with a little smile.   
“Should I read you some more of your bedtime story?”  
“Yes please,”


	7. The Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !¡!Major trigger warning for this chapter!¡!
> 
> Graphic description of self harm and violence 
> 
> Please take care
> 
> If you can’t manage this chapter, leave a comment and I’ll summarise it for you safely xx

Once again Tyler woke up on the later side, and his mom had managed to leave their bedroom without waking him. This time there was no family bickering to eavesdrop on, and it unnerved Tyler.

The house was too quiet.

He didn’t like quiet. He was used to the ward with its constant fighting and screaming and restraint resistance and emergency alarms and rushing of teams and abundance of people who refused to stay put. Even on a calm night, Tyler could still hear the constant panicked pacing of his neighbour to the left and the persistent whisperings to the hallucinations of the neighbour to his right, and of course his own voices on some incessant mission to force him to hurt himself. Noise was always there, always in the background and often overwhelming, and its absence was not only foreign but scary.

Was he alone in the house? It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t alone, and he was stupid to even think it. Mom would never trust him alone, she was definitely there somewhere, and probably Dad too, and yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pin down any sort of sound at all. No hum of the TV, no gentle conversation, no tapping feet or boiling kettle or sign of life at all.

“You’re not alone.” Someone read his mind, and, startled, Tyler quickly rolled over on his bed to see Josh stood just a handful of feet away. New faded blue hair and all.

Fuck.

He hadn’t had his morning meds yet, he just, he just needed to take his morning meds and then the chemicals would rebalance in his brain, or the pills would alter the chemicals, or, or they’d alter his brain, or something, he didn’t know how they worked, he didn’t care how they worked, he just needed them to work.

He needed them to work, he needed the hallucination to go, he needed to stay calm and stay steady and stay safe so that he could prove to Mom that he could stay home. He needed his medication.

Not even realising how much he was shaking until he found himself almost unable to open his bedside drawer, Tyler started desperately scouring for the pills that would knock him semi conscious but stop him from hurting himself and giving his parents any reason to readmit him. He knew Mom kept the bottles in a locked medicine cupboard she’d installed downstairs, but she must have left at least his PRN dose, his rescue meds, somewhere in his room. It was common sense and she always planned ahead and she must have put them somewhere - they had to be somewhere, but Tyler couldn’t find them anywhere and he was getting more and more worked up and breathing faster and faster and his-

“Calm dow-“  
“SHUT UP!” Tyler growled at the false image.

He abandoned his drawers and went over to Mom’s instead, rifling through a collection of miscellaneous lip balms and hair ties and bits of paper that did fuck all to help resolve the situation that was quickly swelling and growing out of proportion. This couldn’t be happening.

“Please don’t get angry with me peanut, you know, you know I don’t like it when people get angry with me. You know it reminds me of my parents Ty, what they used to do to me,”   
“You’re not him! You’re not even real! Stop it!” Tyler hissed back with tears in his eyes. “I spend three quarters of an hour scrolling through his Instagram, and this is my punishment?! Stop it! STOP!” He cried out to the empty room.

Kneeling on the ground next to the case of open and fruitless drawers, Tyler’s instinct was to just collapse down onto the floor and shuffle under the bed to cry and cry. The episodes with Josh weren’t as scary as the others, but they were twice as likely to make him hysterical with heartbreak, and hysterics lead to relapse. But no, he couldn’t relapse, he couldn’t go back, he had to stand back up on his weary legs and search somewhere else in the room. The desk drawer maybe?

“You spent 45 minutes on me? Tyler that’s pathetic, I’ve been waiting two and a half years for you.”  
“You were gone for a YEAR!” Tyler didn’t hesitate spitting straight back in the hallucination’s face.   
“I was out of Ohio for 10 months, and excuse me for needing to heal after the death of my first and best friend and love.”  
“Why are you allowed time to heal and I’m not? I was in hospital Josh,”  
“You weren’t healing from anything, you were sitting out withdrawals behind locked doors because you weren’t strong enough to do it by yourself. You spent a year guzzling down scotch by the gallon and snorting morphine at every opportunity, and then you had to go to rehab for it. You’re an alcoholic and a druggy, and that was YOUR choice! Nobody made you drink Tyler, nobody made you do hard drugs, that was a choice you made. I didn’t choose to lose Debby.”

Tyler knew it wasn’t real, he knew it was his own imagination projecting his worst fears onto the air in front of him, and yet he couldn’t breathe. Hearing those words leave Josh’s mouth would end him. Literally, if the real Josh said that then Tyler would slit his own wrists because his opinion was the only one that truly mattered and life wasn’t worth it without Josh’s love. The only way he coped was by dreaming of one day falling back into Josh’s arms, and if that was an impossibility then so was Tyler’s chance of having a future. He couldn’t do it without him.

“You’re a drunk and a drug addict, and it should have been you locked in that basement with belt buckles ripping into your flesh amidst the bruises and welts.”  
“I wish it was! Josh you know I would have done anything to swap places with y-“  
“Anything?? You did nothing. For months during junior year you knew and you did nothing.”  
“You begged me not to! You cried and cried and begged me not to!”  
“I was scared Tyler, I was being abused and I was petrified for my life, and in being a bystander you not only supported them but you added to my belief that I deserved it. You were my best friend and then my boyfriend, and you made me think it was right that they beat me.”  
“I didn’t m-mea-ean t-to!” Tyler sobbed. “I, I, I, I thought they’d k-kill y-you if I c-called the c-c-co-p-ps,”  
“MAYBE I WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF DEAD!” Josh screamed back and Tyler fell back into a curled up ball of hyperventilating ugly hacking chokes.

Any attempts to reason with himself, to convince himself it was just a hallucination and not Josh’s actual opinion was completely pointless. Of course that was what Josh thought, of course it was! Tyler saw the marks on his back and kissed them better, then sent Josh back home to those same abusers every single day. Of course Josh loathed him and of course he was suicidal.

“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME! TYLER! DON’T LEAVE ME AGAIN!” Josh screamed so loud that Tyler’s eardrums screamed back in agony, but it didn’t stop him from scrambling across the hallway and into the bathroom opposite with blind panic tripping him up.

He slammed the door closed and immediately pressed his back to it to keep Josh out, sliding back down onto the floor and sobbing further with his eyes squeezed close and tears streaming down his face and dripping off his jaw as he tried to heave in breath but failed.

“This is because of you.” Josh was in the bathroom with him anyway, this time with a rope tied around the shower curtain rail and around his neck, at first a little loose but then suddenly incredibly tight as he dropped his weight forward and the noose pulled shut. Tyler saw him dangle with a red face for no more than a millisecond before gagging on his sobs then hiding behind his trembling hands.

“A-a-aard-d-v-vark. B-b-buffff-a-l-lo. Ch-cheee-cheet-tah.” Tyler begged himself to try a coping strategy but the dying body was scorched into his eyelids and the choking spluttering sounds from the noose were only making things harder. It was too encompassing, it was all much much too encompassing.

Racked by tremors, Tyler somehow managed to pull himself up to a weak stand with both hands latched onto the basin of the sink to support himself. He daren’t look in the mirror inches ahead in case he caught glimpse of the body inches behind, so instead he kept his distorted vision on the tile ahead as he opened the mirror door to the cabinet.

He knew full well there was nothing in there he could use to hurt himself, but he didn’t want to hurt himself, he just needed something, anything, to make Josh go away. His frantic rummaging turned up nothing, just spilt a box of cotton bud sticks and knocked over a tube of toothpaste. All the while Josh’s gurgling was edging closer and closer to death, and pushing Tyler closer and closer to the edge.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what he could do! He knew what he should do, he should go downstairs and find his mom and let her medicate him and hold him till he recovered, but he couldn’t. No. He couldn’t run the risk of this all being real and Mom being gone and Josh dying alone in that bathroom because Tyler was too selfish to do anything.

A glass found its home next to the sink, and, shakes so violent he almost dropped it, Tyler took it in his hand and filled it to the brim with cold water, then raised it to his lips. His gasping sobs meant he almost choked, but sipping it forced him to slow down his breathing and focus on the task at hand, and, for a brief moment it helped him to take one minuscule step back from the edge.

Unintentionally catching sight of Josh’s blueing body pushed him over.

Before he could even process what was happening, he’d smashed the glass against the ceramic and picked up the longest shard, not caring as it sliced into his palm and the fingers that wrapped around it in grip, only concentrating on saving Josh’s life. It was too late, he knew it was too late, he knew he’d stopped struggling and the body’s circulation was impeded by the rope to such a degree that his boyfriend’s brain had been starved of the oxygen it needed to function and would have sustained unsurvivable damage. That didn’t stop Tyler from hastily cutting through the rope that suspended him and consequently causing Josh to drop to the bathroom floor, then attempting to cut through the rope that was strangling him without cutting into his neck. He didn’t care that blood was spilling from his own hand wounds, just as long as he didn’t do any further damage to the man he loved.

Once he severed the final few strands, he was expecting Josh to suddenly gasp in a desperate breath, or at least react in some way, but he’d been too slow, spent too long listing alphabetical fucking animals, too fucking slow and was therefore responsible for the dead angel in his lap. He howled. He’d let Josh down, he’d let him down, he’d supported his abusive parents and he hadn’t been there when he was grieving Debby and he’d become an addict and left his life, and because of that he lay a corpse cradled in Tyler’s arms.

Time froze as Tyler wept, pressing his forehead against Josh’s, just holding his cold limp body and praying for the soul to flutter back home and hold him back, for his eyes to open and his heart to beat. But there was nothing and no one.

A flash of anger possessed Tyler, directed at nobody but himself. He carefully laid Josh down, then scrambled to pick up his shard of glass once again and roll his pyjama sleeve up past his shoulder in his left arm. The whole thing was covered in scars but he didn’t care he was going to make another, he just needed to be punished, and needed the relief of a wound once again.

First he traced where he wanted it to go, traced where the brachial artery ran, leaving a pink scratch with the tip of his glass tool running from his shoulder to his elbow without interruption. Then the first cut, a quick sharp movement tearing a white gutter into his flesh that slowly started to speckle with small splotches of blood, then all of a sudden filled and overflowing and running down his arm and dripping onto the floor. The blood was soothing but it wasn’t arterial, so he sliced deeper into the same trough again. And again. And again.

 

 

 

“What do I do Mom?” A vulnerable quiet voice was the first piece of information to be processed, and the first crack before the dam collapsed and a whole bombardment of sensory information flooded over Tyler, bright white light blinding him, harsh regular beeps piercing his sensitive eardrums, a strong sharp pain from his bicep.

Shit.

“I hate to say it, really I do because I know how much you wanted this to work, but I agree with Chris sweetie, I think he needs to go back.” Another voice. Granny’s voice.   
“He’ll hate me. He’ll never forgive me.”  
“Kelly he won’t hate you, of course he’ll be upset but once he gets better he’ll understand why you had to do what you have to do.”  
“Once he gets better? Mom, what if he never gets better?” His mom was crying.   
“Oh don’t be silly now Kelly, of course he’ll get better, these things just take time.”  
“He’s had time, he’s had lots and lots of time.”  
“And he needs lots more, but it will happen one day.” Granny whispered back, and Tyler could just about make out the mother and daughter hugging in the corner of his hospital room through dizzy blurry vision.

“This isn’t some transient episode Mom, this, this is chronic mental illness, this isn’t going to go away. He’s been sick since he was a toddler with those damn compulsions, I mean he was 4 years old when he started slapping himself, 4 Mom! 4! And he’s been cutting for 7 years as far as I’m aware, but I bet it started way younger and he never told me and I never-“  
“You’re upsetting yourself for no reason now Kelly.”  
“I’m not, I’m trying to make a point, I’m trying to say that he has been miserable his whole life. 20 years and 11 months he has been miserable, and it’s not getting better. He’s just getting worse and worse as the years go on.”

“He hasn’t always been struggling, I mean he had that nice boyfriend for a while didn’t he?”  
“Josh, yeah, he had one good year when he got close to Josh, but now he thinks Josh is the answer to all his problems and thinks he’ll just be waiting for him with open arms and they can go back to how they were. He doesn’t understand they’re both completely different people now and they might not be compatible anymore, and he doesn’t understand that Josh might not want him anymore.”

Tyler sunk his teeth into his lip to stop himself erupting into sobs.

“And I’m scared Mom, I am really scared that his best days are behind him.”  
“Oh don’t say that Kelly, no, no of course not. He has plenty to look forward to, he’ll go to college for his music and meet a man he’ll make his husband, and he’ll have little kids with him and create a family of his own, and,”  
“He can’t do any of that Mom! He can’t even dress himself!”  
“Yet. He can’t do it yet, but he will.”

“I always try to be hopeful, to believe in him, but Mom these conditions are so brutal and I’m so scared they’re stronger than us.”  
“So what, so you give up on your son?”  
“No, never, no.”  
“You have to stop thinking so black and white. He relapsed, yes that’s upsetting, and yes he might need re-hospitalising, but that doesn’t mean he’s back at square one. He’s off the drugs, he’s off the drink, he’s medicated, he’s diagnosed, he’s talking to people, he’s a whole lot better than when you had to hospitalise him last time. This process of recovery isn’t going to be one admission, he can’t be healed in one admission, and the sooner you understand that, the sooner you can get Ty the help he needs and the sooner you can have your son back.”

“I didn’t even g-get a full w-week with h-him Mom,”  
“I know darling, I know, it’s not fair, but you’re doing the right thing I promise.” Granny held her like she held him. “It’s really not fair on any of you, and I wish we didn’t have to endure this, but I know you’re strong enough to guide him through it all. You just have to have faith.”

“Where’s Chris? He should be here with him, should be here for you.”  
“He’s, um, he, he went to go buy a, uh, a pack of smokes,”  
“I thought he gave that up?”  
“He did, he, he’s just stressed. Honestly it’s the least of my concerns right now.”  
“Of course,”

“Can you stay here with Ty? I need to go find him.”  
“Okay love, are you sure you’re alright going by yourself?”  
“What choice do I have? I have to be alright Mom, that’s my job. I have to be alright.”

With that, his mom left the room and Tyler did his very best to resist the urge to wince when the door closed behind her. He couldn’t give up that he’d been listening all along, he couldn’t break mom’s heart all over again, he couldn’t give her even more reasons to feel guilty. Although she shouldn’t feel guilty, after all everything she had said had been true.

What if the conditions were stronger than him?

“You starting to stir honey? Hey? Finally coming round to say hello?” Granny appeared beside his hospital bed, but Tyler tried to slip back into unconsciousness. “It’s just me, Granny Joanie, you’re okay love. We’re in the hospital but you don’t need to worry because they’re taking great care of you, okay? You don’t need to be scared.”  
“My a-arm,” his voice was hoarse and dry and painful.   
“You had to pop into theatre for a lil surgery because you accidentally hit your artery, so they had to fix that for you and stitch you up, but as long as the wound is treated well then you’ll make a full recovery darling.”  
“It hurts.”  
“They can’t give you any morphine or other opioids because of your past addiction, so they’ve had to stick to some of the softer stuff. I know it must be painful, and I’m really sorry sugarplum, but it’s the safest option for you for now. If it’s really bad then I can find a nurse and see if there are any other options, like if she can make it numb for you maybe?”  
“Don’t leave me.”  
“Of course not.” Her slightly wrinkled hand reached out and brushed his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Granny Joanie,” Tyler whispered croakily, tears already swelling. “Can I please come home with you? And Grandad Fez?”   
“Oh we’d love to come and have you stay with us for a few days, that would be great,” she kept stroking his hair and Tyler leaned into her hand, tears rolling down his face.   
“Can I please live with you?”  
“Live with us? Honey, you’ve got a wonderful family home, that’s where you belong, not with us oldies. If it’s too busy and overwhelming for you then of course you have a place in our home, but wouldn’t you prefer to be with your mom and dad?”  
“They’re gonna send me away.” Tyler gulped tearfully. “They’ll send me away, please Granny, please, take me home with you so I don’t get sent back. Please, I can’t go back, I can’t.”

“Sugarplum, listen to Granny, it’s not up to me to decide what happens next, that’s not my call. It’s up to the doctors and the nurses and your mom and dad, and I won’t go against them. If they decide you’re well enough to be in the community then maybe I can suggest to Mom that you come and spend some time out in the country with us, but I can’t take you with me to avoid you getting readmitted.”  
“Please.”  
“Tyler, hospital isn’t a punishment, it’s something your parents have to consider because they love you so much that they want you to get better. Don’t you want to get better? Feel better so you don’t have to resort to things like this?” She gestured to his excessively bandaged arm as he cried.

“It was an accident,”  
“It was intentional honey, we know that.”  
“It was an accident, I, I, I was trying to save Josh and I cut my palm and triggered myself and it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to! Please Granny, convince Mom, convince Dad, it was just an accident.”  
“Well we need to make sure more accidents don’t happen, and the best way is by putting you into a more controlled environment for a lil while.”   
“Please, they can keep me away from all the glass in the house for the rest of my life, please, I’ll drink out of paper cups and I’ll stay out of the kitchen, I’ll stay just in my room! I’ll do whatever else they want me to do, just please, please. Don’t send me away.”  
“Oh sugar, now now, there’s no need to be getting upset.” Granny Joanie leant further into the bed so she could press a kiss against his crown and hold him in a half hug for a few moments.

“I don’t know all the details, but I know your parents have been looking at different units, nicer ones than your Cygnet intensive care, places where you’re allowed visits everyday and they have home leave programs so you could work up to just being a weekly patient who goes home at the weekend. Wouldn’t that be nice, hey? Whilst your siblings are at school you could be somewhere safe getting treatment to help you feel better, then on Saturday and Sunday you could come home to spend time all together.” She said with a smile as he cried. “This time it’s going to be better Tyler, it’s going to be so much better I promise.”

“Please. Not again, I can’t, not again.”  
“It’s not the same thing again Tyler, this is something new. I agree with your mom’s decision to take you out of Cygnet, I think you are ready to leave that place, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re ready to be at home-“  
“I am!”  
“Ty, this self harm is evidence you’re not. This is evidence that you’re overwhelmed, and that’s not your fault but that doesn’t mean the situation is out of your control. You can fix this. I think what you need is a halfway step, because it’s a big jump from intensive inpatient care to being without any care at all, and I think another unit is perfect.”

“I just want this to end! I want it to be done! I’m tired Granny and I don’t want to do it anymore!” Tyler cried out in frustrated desperation before collapsing his head against the pillow in a fresh flurry of tears. Granny didn’t say anything.

 

  
Tyler spent another few hours crying softly in the hospital bed, broken up by the occasional nurse coming into perform small tasks like unhooking his blood transfusion once it finished and attaching another bag of fluid and giving him his usual medication supplemented with painkillers that seemed to have no effect on the constant agony he had caused himself. A psychiatrist has also paid him a visit, and Tyler knew he hadn’t made a good impression on the stern woman and it wouldn’t help his cause.

Granny stayed at his bedside the whole day, Mom came and went, overcome by tears so violent she had to excuse herself until she thought she could manage again, then she’d last another 20 or so minutes before repeating the cycle. Dad was on site, he knew that, but he hadn’t seen him all day until suddenly both his parents walked in with an accompanying male doctor holding a clipboard and Tyler’s fate.

“Mr Joseph, I’m Dr Robinson and I was your surgeon this morning and I’m your case lead today,”  
“Tyler he stopped you bleeding to death, he saved your life.” Dad told him after a few seconds of silence. “So say hello.”  
“Hello.”  
“Hi. So I’ve just spent a little while with your folks in my office discussing options for the next few days and we haven’t come to any conclusions yet, and so I decided I’d ask your perspective on things.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” He sniffed a moment later.   
“Tyler! Don’t be rude.” Dad snapped again, making it clear that he was pissed off about the situation, seemingly without empathy.   
“It’s true, when does it ever matter what I want? Who even cares? Why are you pretending to care Dr Robinson? You listen, then you do the fuck you want with me because I’m a sectioned psychiatric patient which equates to cattle that can be herded in the eyes of authority.”  
“Are you quite finished Tyler Robert?! Have some respect.”  
“I’ll have respect the same day I receive respect in return.” He muttered bitterly, not prepared to be subjected to the same crap he was put through once before all over again.

“Tyler, I ask your opinion because I’m interested.” Dr Robinson spoke in a deeper voice. “Why do you think I don’t respect you?”  
“Nobody does, ‘specially not doctors.”  
“He just got out of Cygnet Psychiatric ICU on the other side of Columbus and the staff aren’t the most compassionate to say the least, he has bad memories of them not always respecting his dignity and him as an individual. It’s nothing personal.” Mom explained with a broken voice.   
“Cygnet hey? I’ve heard from other ex-patients that it’s a little on the rough side.”  
“Yeh.” Tyler looked anywhere but in his eyes.

“Well I am not a Cygnet doctor, and I do have respect for you, I have a lot of respect for you because I appreciate the complexity of the situation and the strength you must possess in order to endure it. And I will do my best to maintain your dignity, but if you feel at any point that I am crossing a line then please don’t hesitate to call me out for it as it’s not my intention.” He was trying his best but Tyler was too exhausted to play along with the niceties. He just wanted to go home.

“And additionally, you’re not a sectioned patient, you’re an informal voluntary patient.”  
“A psych came earlier,”  
“Dr Vaughn, yes, and although concerned about your state of mind, she concluded that you are of clear thought and don’t post an immediate risk to yourself or others and therefore decided against detaining you under a psych hold.” He said and Tyler wished he could be pleased about it but he was numb. It felt like the idea of a positive outcome was too unrealistic to even contemplate.

“So that gives you options, and by that I mean you actually do have options rather than me deciding for you, you have choices to make regarding what you want to happen next.”  
“My parents though,” Tyler didn’t look their way.   
“You’re 20, you have the right to make your own decisions independent of your parents’ will. If I think those decisions are endangering then we’ll revisit the possibility of a psychiatric section, but as long as you’re sensible then it’s up to you.”

“He lives with us, we get a say.” Dad was obviously concerned that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of Tyler.   
“I suppose it’s true, he’s not entitled to a lodging with you, and if you decide you’re unhappy with his decision then you can exercise your right to ask him to leave your residency, but making your child homeless does seem a little drastic Mr Joseph. How about we discuss the potential options with him first before we resort to such desperate measures.”  
“Tyler, baby, Momma would never let you be homeless.” Mom felt the need to reassure him, but Tyler honestly had no idea where the idea had even come from. He was too tired for all of this.

“From our prior discussion, your parents have raised a couple of suggestions. They’re quite keen for you to voluntarily admit yourself to a psychiatric unit, and have two units in mind, Campbell and Acorn, both of which are open units and I have heard good things about. I’ve been in touch with the ward manager from both and Campbell currently has a space in its day program which would entail outpatient sessions running from 8 till 4 working days for a 12 week block focusing on managing OCD, anxiety and depression. It has a high success rate of improving wellbeing however it may not target your psychosis perfectly, and you may decide you require inpatient care, for which they currently have no available occupancies. They can put you on a waiting list but it will take 6-8 months before you’re at the top. Acorn on the other hand is offering an inpatient bed as soon as Monday.”  
“What day is it?”  
“Today?” The doctor checked and he nodded. “Friday.”

“Acorn’s a great unit. Because it is an open ward and has a large capacity it is quite ‘popular’ I suppose with other young people struggling with self harm, and it has a high turnover rate.”  
“What does that mean?” Tyler sniffed, knowing it was quite likely he’d end up there, judging by his glaring red-eyed parents.   
“Quite often parents admit their children after a bad self harm episode and they spend a week or two at Acorn learning the basics of coping methods that they then perfect at home with outpatient support.”  
“Ty, it’s for kids,” Mom murmured from the wall.   
“It’s for 18 to 21s yes.” Dr Robinson clarified.   
“I’m 21 soon.”  
“Their policy isn’t that you’re forced to leave the day you turn 21, it’s that they don’t accept any new patients over that age, but you can see out the rest of your admission if you’re already there.”

“Baby the way I understood it is that you would be the oldest patient and the sickest patient and have the longest admission length so would have to watch everybody else come and go. I don’t think they’re equipped to deal with schizoaffective disorder, I think they focus on depression and anxiety.”  
“What do you want from me then Mom? Because Campbell can’t take me for months and I know you won’t let me go home.”  
“I want you to consider a secure unit.” She said and his heart dropped.   
“That means locked doors.”  
“It means better protection for you.”  
“It means locked doors!”

“Tyler, can I try to explain something to you?” Dr Robinson interrupted.   
“Whatever.”  
“Tyler!” Dad hissed again.   
“You’ve spent the past year in a PICU, and it’s very unusual for someone to be discharged straight into the community following that type of admission. Instead the usual path involves some kind of step down, and that is usually to a low or medium secure ward. The hierarchy of severity is PICU at the top, then medium, then low, and finally open unit. Because your PICU would have been planning your discharge pathway had you stayed, they could have put you on a waiting list for a secure unit in advance and you could conveniently move across with no gap in between once a bed is available, however, as you left your unit early you don’t have that next place lined up, and I imagine it will be very difficult to find a medium secure unit with a bed available in the near future because they do become a part of many discharge plans. A low secure on the other hand is more likely to be able to facilitate you literally as they generally have more availability, and it’s going to be better at managing complex mental health issues than an open ward. I really urge you to seriously consider it. If it was my decision to make-“  
“Which it’s not.”  
“No it’s not, but if it was my decision to make then I would suggest a medium secure is the ideal option for you as it would have been your next step if you hadn’t appealed your section, so first thing is I would see if there’s anybody who is able to take you. The answer will probably be no, so the next best thing is to find a low secure that you like and to get yourself admitted as soon as possible.” Dr Robinson advised, and Tyler just sighed.

“Are there no other open units?”  
“There are a few but outside of Columbus so you’d have to travel, I can find you a booklet of them if you’re considering an open unit,”   
“Tyler, open units aren’t designed for you baby, please, think about this logically. You need more care than they can give you.” Mom told him quietly but desperately.   
“No. I am not going on a secure unit. I will not be in a locked unit, no.”  
“Tyler I lock the door at home, what difference does it make??” Dad, once again, didn’t understand.   
“No! NO! You do not get to tell me it doesn’t make a difference! Not until you’re locked up every single fucking day - have you not got any idea how claustrophobic I felt, only being allowed 10 minutes garden time a day?? Dad they locked me in deescalation, in that tiny fucking padding room with no food or water, for hours every day! Hours! I didn’t know when or if they’d ever come back! I’d bang on the door and beg to be let out but they would just add more and more time to my stay until eventually I’d have so many panic attacks that I’d wear myself out and collapse on the ground, then and only then would they unlock the door. No, I will not be locked in again, no way. No.”

“Tyler, just so we’re clear, you won’t consider voluntary admission to a secure unit?” Dr Robinson asked.   
“No.”  
“But you are willing to be admitted to Acorn on Monday?”  
“No.”  
“Another open unit? If I get you the booklet to flick through?”  
“No. I’m not getting admitted anywhere, I am not going back to hospital, I refuse, and if my parents want to kick me out then so be it, because I’d rather be on the streets than back in that place.”  
“Tyler it’s not that place, it’s not Cygnet, it’s a fresh start baby, please.” Mom was crying again.   
“They’re all the same! They’re all places families send their kids when they don’t want them anymore!”  
“We do want you Tyler! We want you alive, that’s why we’re trying so damn hard to rehabilitate you to want to be alive too!” Dad snapped then looked away bitterly.

“Dress it up with whatever labels you wants, PICU, open, low secure, whatever the hell else, they’re all the same thing, they’re dumping places for mental kids hated by their parents. There’s no healing, no cure, no solutions - don’t you think it would be plastered all over the internet if there was some fucking way to fix this?!” He jabbed his finger into his temple hard. “They can’t make me better! All they do is keep me away from you!”  
“You’re wrong, they do make you better, Cygnet has made you better Tyler Robert, the job’s not done because we foolishly thought we knew better and pulled you out early, but we’ve learnt our lesson and we will keep sending you to units for as long as it takes for us to get our son back.”

“Dr Robinson, please discharge me immediately.” Tyler turned to the man with the clipboard.   
“Your fluids aren’t finished and it’s hospital policy to keep monitoring patients for 6 hours after an operation, so I’ll have to keep you here a little longer.”  
“I’ll abscond then, I need to get out of here, get away from them.”  
“Tyler, sugar, no rush. If you need some space from your parents then they can step out the room and I’ll stay with you, and then tonight you can come and stay with Grandad Fez and me, how about that? Little distance to cool off? Because I know it’s been a hard day on everyone.” Granny spoke up for the first time in a while.

“I suggest you listen to your grandmother because if you do abscond then I will have grounds to section you, and then this whole conversation will have been a waste of time because I’ll have you admitted as soon as a bed becomes available at a secure unit and I’ll keep you here in this room under police supervision until that happens.” Dr Robinson took his parents’ side.

“Why do you all hate me?!” Tyler cried out in frustration, tears filling his eyes.   
“We don’t hate you, we love you and we want to help you make the right decisions baby.” Mom lied.   
“Liar! I just want to go home, that’s all I want, and you’re all trying to stop me.”  
“A moment ago you were trying to get away from us, now a of a sudden you want to be with us - Ty, do you get why it’s hard for us to trust you?” Dad’s voice was strained and his brow frowned.   
“Because you hate me.”  
“Because your story is so inconsistent. If you want to be home because you love and miss your family so much then that would make sense, or because you hate Cygnet staff then that would be understandable, or even just because you miss home cooking - something that is consistent. All we get in reality is a jumbled mess of excuses, oh I’m claustrophobic, oh I wanna be with my family, oh hospitals can’t cure me, and the only running thread between them all is the fact you want to be at home. We listened and gave you that privilege and at your first opportunity you cut an artery in the bathroom. I think what you really want is to die, and I want the opposite. If that makes me a dick in your eyes, oh well, if you hate me, oh well, but don’t think for one minute that I am doing this because I hate you. We sent you to Cygnet because we wanted you to get better, and we’ll send you somewhere else so they can get you even better, and that comes from a place of love.” Dad droned on and on with his lies.

“Tell me it’s not true Ty, tell me there are other reasons you wanted to come home besides how easy you find it to hurt yourself with us.” Mom looked him in the eyes but Tyler just looked away. “I’m so sorry Chrisss, I n-never should have discharged him, you were r-right all along. He was just pl-pla-ying me so h-he could tr-try to kill himself. I was wr-rong, and I’m s-s-sorry.”  
“It’s not your fault love, he manipulated you.” Dad wrapped an arm around her and Tyler saw the dark blood staining his sleeve for the first time. Tyler’s blood. So it was him who found him.

“I didn’t!”  
“You tricked her into discharging you early.”  
“I didn’t! Mom, I didn’t!” Tyler hated seeing her get upset. “I didn’t I swear! On my last visit I even said to Mom that I understand she can’t take me home! I didn’t force her!”  
“You said she didn’t have to take you immediately after a sobbing episode where you begged for her to break you out of the place you were supposedly being bullied in. You guilt tripped her Tyler and you know it.” Dad stroked his wife’s hair soothingly whilst glaring at Tyler intimidatingly.

“I was bullied Dad, and I had a panic attack in the park, it, it wasn’t a ploy, it wasn’t a tactic, it was a panic attack.” His dad had struck a nerve and Tyler felt a hollowness in his chest that was quickly followed by fast racing tears on both cheeks.

“How am I supposed to believe you?”  
“It’s the truth.”  
“You don’t know what truth is Tyler, you don’t know the difference between reality and your imagination. Just because it’s your supposed truth, doesn’t mean it’s real.”

“The bullies weren’t hallucinations Dad,” Tyler’s voice cracked but his father didn’t flinch.   
“How would you know??”

“I fear we may have drifted slightly off topic,” Dr Robinson’s voice sounded nervous as he edged his way back into the conversation, seemingly taking no notice of the bad job Tyler was doing trying to wipe away all his tears. “Talking, communicating to each other like this, it’s definitely a good start but I feel it would be healthier if you had some kind of unbiased mediator, would you like me to arrange a family counsellor to come a-“   
“No. Thank you.” Dad didn’t even contemplate it.   
“Alright, but that is an option you can look into in the future.”

“Anyway, I’m afraid I need to see some other patients before I’m due in my next surgery so if we could try and work on this plan for the next few days fairly quickly then that would be ideal.”  
“Here you go: I’m going to take my wife home now and run her a bath to have to try and calm her down whilst I scrub Tyler’s blood from the other bathroom before my kids get home so they’re not further traumatised.” He was intentionally trying to make Tyler feel guilty, and it was working. “Since you’re not going to section him, I suppose he’s free to leave whenever he wants and there’s fuck all we can do about it, and honestly right now I am not in the mood to prioritise him for a change.”  
“Chris, don’t be cruel. Take Kel home, I’ll stay with Tyler. If he’s physically well enough to be discharged today then I’ll drive him back to yours, but if you’re still too stressed then he can stay with me and Fez for as long as it takes for the dust to settle.” Granny suggested. “It’s been a hard day, I think you all need some rest to help but this in perspective.”

 

 

 

“Nearly there sugarplum, you able to hold on a little longer?” Granny asked as they took a left and began the road leading to the estate he lived on. With his head pressed against the window and tears coating his face, shaking on the edge of his raggedy breath, Tyler let out a small uh huh sound and his Granny sighed.

The bandage on his left bicep was tight and the wound ached deeply and incessantly, and Tyler was desperate to unravel the bleached-white covering and explore the stitches below with the tips of his trembling fingertips, but knew he shouldn’t. It wasn’t even that he wanted to rip the stitching out and open himself up again, no, he just wanted to inspect, to predict, to know what his arm would look like once the scar replaced the cut. He supposed it wouldn’t be much different from all the other lines polluting his skin.

He had been taken to hospital in his pyjamas, and left with them in a plastic bag that sat on the back seat, spitting red light through the car occasionally when the sun reflected off it, and projecting a strong reek of iron that made Tyler feel nauseous. Instead he was wearing a cheap set of single use SMS fabric scrubs given to him by a nurse to change into from his gown he’d worn in surgery. The blue material was uncomfortable against his skin and several sizes too big, but Tyler was used to wearing hospital outfits. He’d done it every single day in Cygnet and the obtrusive identifying colour felt more familiar than anything worn by the rest of the population. In hospital, just as in jail, he had to stand out from the crowd so he could never escape. And no matter how hard Tyler willed it so, he just couldn’t disappear.

“Honey,” Granny must have picked up on the spike of intensity of his ongoing panic attack that had started the moment his parents had walked out. “Are you scared?”  
“Yep,” he gasped between hyperventilating breaths.   
“What are you scared of?”  
“Dad, a-and, Mom,”  
“Love, they’re not to be scared of, they’re your parents and they care for you deeply. The things that were said in the hospital, they were said in a moment of madness,” the final word fell from her lips clumsily as she realised who she was speaking to. Tyler gulped. “They’ve been stressed recently, what with the lead up to having you home again, and they’ve put so much effort into making everything perfect for you and they were heartbroken that something had gone wrong when they’d tried so hard to ensure it wouldn’t. They feel guilty that they couldn’t protect you, that’s all, it’s guilt.”

“That’s n-not, a-all,” He stammered.   
“No, you’re right, I misspoke. They’re also upset and scared too because you seriously injured yourself poppet, and they were worried we might lose you. Your parents, they’ve got a lot of bad memorie-“  
“I know! It’s my fault!” Tyler cried out then collapsed back into the seat again to a reception of momentary stunned silence.

“It’s not you Ty, it’s your head.”  
“MY head! ME!”  
“No.” She said definitely. “It’s a condition,”  
“MY condition!!”  
“Sweetheart, nobody’s to blame, yes you might have completed the action, but someone else put that glass in the bathroom, and someone else left you unsupervised, and you’re not blaming them, are you?”  
“It’s not the same!”  
“Only because you’ve closed your mind to seeing it that way.” Granny replied as he tried to get on top of his panic but couldn’t.

“Just because you don’t need to be scared, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be.” She said a moment later. “I know they’re not always logical, your panic attacks, I know sometimes they come out of nowhere, but that doesn’t make them any less valid.”  
“This is l-logical Granny, my, my p-par-rents h-h-hate me.”  
“Nobody hates you Tyler,” they were getting closer and closer to his house. “Nobody hates you.”  
“D-D-Dad do-does,”  
“He found you sweetie, he had to break the door down and make a tourniquet out of his belt and try and stem the bleeding, all whilst on the phone to the ambulance and trying to keep your mother away. He was terrified, and he still is terrified, and you should understand better than most that fear can make you say and do silly things.”

“He s-said I ha-hallu-hallucinated my b-bullies,”  
“Well your hallucinations usually are bullies, aren’t they? They’re cruel to you,” she turned down their road.   
“There w-were r-r-rea-real ones t-too!”  
“I believe you, but I also understand why your dad is cautious - Ty he doesn’t want to reinforce something that could potentially be sickness honey.”

“I c-can’t d-do thiss,” he hiccuped as they got closer and closer.   
“You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for young man, you absolutely can do this. In fact the car ride has been the biggest challenge, yeah? Mom told me you’re really scared of cars, and I think you’ve done amazingly, and now we’re nearly home and you can escape to the safety of your bedroom. Only another minute and then you can relax.”  
“They d-do-don’t w-want me th-there,”  
“Yes they do Ty, you read the text message from your mom, saying how desperate she is to see you and to fix this.”

Tyler wanted to reply with the news that he’d heard what his mom had said when she thought he was unconscious, he’d heard it all and knew the text was nonsense. She ‘regretted it all’ and was ‘begging for another chance’ apparently, but Tyler didn’t believe a word of it. The argument escaped his mind though as he saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked outside his house and instantly panicked.

“No no no no,”  
“Sugarplum? What’s wrong?”  
“That car, it, it, no, it’s someone f-from Cygnet, this is a trap, no no no, pl-please, no,” he squirmed in his seat, belt keeping him strapped down in spite of his twisting and crying. Granny had come to a stop on the sidewalk outside his house and Tyler could see silhouettes in the windows, all waiting to pounce.

“Calm down, that’s Zacky’s car, s’just your brother honey, nobody’s here from any hospital.”  
“Zack?”  
“Yeah,”  
“He, he, no, he’s a-at, he’s at sc-school.”  
“Well maybe he decided to come home for the weekend, it is Friday night so school is done after all. Won’t that be nice, hey? See your little brother?”  
“He HATES ME!” Tyler screamed terrified.   
“No he-“  
“He does!”  
“No, he loves you.” Granny shook her head as Tyler’s leaking eyes flicked between the ugly silver Honda and her sympathetic face at manic speed.

“He loves you. He is your brother and your best friend, and he will never stop loving you, just as you will never stop loving him. Things are, well, it’s a little rocky between you, I understand that, but I also know that a bond like yours will never disappear. Beneath all of this surface anger is pain because he cares about you so much Ty and it hurts him to see you struggle.”  
“Anger?” He whispered, but before she got an opportunity to expand there was a sudden knock on the passenger seat window that made Tyler nearly jump out of his skin.

“Calm, calm, shh, it’s your momma sugar.” Granny said whilst pressing a button to put his window down. Immediately two arms snaked through and wrapped around Tyler tightly, holding him awkwardly and yet lovingly.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,”  
“M-Mom,”  
“Oh darling you’re so brave, Momma’s so sorry, I’m so sorry.”  
“Kelly, why don’t you let go of him and open the door so he can get out?” Granny didn’t understand how petrified Tyler was of getting closer to the house and to Dad and to Zack and to the arguments that were no doubt looming, ready to push his panic to psychosis once again.

They didn’t understand, neither of them did, and Tyler was too busy battling for hyperventilating breath to try and form anything close to comprehendible words. Nonetheless his mother pried her hands off of him and slipped back out of the window, then opened the car door and snuck her hand back in to undo Tyler’s belt for him when his own trembling hands failed, before encouraging him out then scooping him up in another big hug.

“Baby baby, I love you so much, you’re my world Ty, I love you,” she stroked his short but growing hair over and over as she clutched him tight, the grip on his left arm almost exactly where his new wound was and causing intense pain, but he said nothing. “The fight at the hospital, I didn’t mean it, we didn’t mean any of it. Of course you didn’t manipulate me, you were just scared and wanted your Momma, and I’m so sorry we said those things. We got caught up in the moment and you don’t have to forgive us right away but please know we care so so much, and we love you, and of course we won’t push you into doing anything you don’t want to as long as the alternative is safe. If you think you can manage at home then of course you don’t have to go back to hospital. We love you so so much.”

“Dad.”  
“He’s inside sweetie, do you wanna go talk to him?” She took her face of his chest so she could look him in the eyes as he cried. “He’s calmed down now I promise, and he feels awful about everything he said as well. He wants to apologise too.”   
“N-no,”  
“Tyler’s not feeling so good, he’s really quite scared.” Granny had appeared by his side to state the bleeding obvious.

“You having a full panic attack baby? Or just overwhelmed and emotional?”  
“P-p-pa-pan-n-nic,”   
“Panic attack, okay, well Momma’s got your medication inside and we can find your nice weighted blanket and wrap you up in bed, and we can play some of your little alphabet games, or I can read you your bedtime story, or we can talk? Or you can just try and get on top of this in some peace and quiet? Yeah?”  
“Y-Yeah,” he gulped tearfully.

“Deep breaths baby, nice and slow. Innnnn, and ouuuuut. Innnn and ouuuuut.” She tried to provide him a rhythm to follow but he couldn’t stop the hysterical gasps, even with her rubbing his back. “Alright poppet, let’s get you inside. Mom, you joining us?”  
“I better go home and check on your father, but we’ll swing by tomorrow for a lil while if that works for you guys?” Granny replied.   
“Okay I’ll confirm in the morning, thanks so much for everything today, couldn’t have managed without you.”  
“S’my pleasure. Tyler it was great to see you again and I hope you feel better soon,”  
“Thanks Mom,” his mom answered on his behalf. “See you soon? And say hi to Dad from me?”  
“I will, love you both,”  
“Love you too, bye,”  
“Bye,” Granny climbed back into her car and restarted the engine as Mom started shepherding Tyler up the path and to the front door of their home. She pressed her hand against it and pushed it open, then helped Tyler into the hall and closed it behind him before guiding him into the kitchen where his medication was.

The house was quiet except for his rapid breathing and the sounds of rattling pill bottles Mom was moving around to try and find the right ones, until suddenly there was the rushed sound of someone racing down the stairs with heavy footsteps, and in seconds Zack burst into the room.

Before he even knew what was happening, Tyler had been grabbed by the neck of his shirt and thrown against the nearest wall, one hand firmly pinning him to it as the other wound back and then collided with his mouth in the form of a fist. The pain from the punch was delayed a moment as his vision flashed static and his ears rang, and then it came all at once. Immediate throbbing, throbbing so intense it felt like his skin was being pulled so tight it might burst. His lips had ripped against his sharp teeth and blood filled his mouth and sprayed down his chin as he sobbed, sharp pounding echoing the force of the impact and piercing deep into his jaw and shooting up his cheek. He’d never been hit so hard in all his life.

“Oh my god oh my god, Chris! CHRISSS!” Mom was instantly in tears. “Zack you BRUTE! Get off him! GET OFF HIM!”  
“You do not get to do this to my family again.” He hissed, tip of his nose millimetres away from Tyler’s face, hot breath washing over him.   
“STOP IT! ZACKARY!”  
“We sent you away for a reason, you do not get to come back early and ruin our lives again,” his growling continued as Tyler sobbed and wished the wall would swallow him up.

“What’s going on?” Dad jogged into the room but Tyler couldn’t concentrate on anything other than trying to keep himself together a little longer. “Oh shit.”  
“My little sister was sobbing down the phone to me because the bathroom was covered in your blood. She is a wreck.”  
“Alright enough Zack, enough,” Dad tried to push them apart but the younger didn’t even blink, his glare burning through Tyler’s very soul.   
“We were doing okay until you came here.”  
“ZACK! PLEASE!” Mom’s voice cracked as she begged.

“You’re too impatient to wait another few months, so you came running back to Mommy and now you’ve fucked up all the progress we’ve made to try and pick ourselves up after the last round of Hell you subjected us to-“  
“Ty baby don’t listen, don’t listen,”   
“You have no right to do this to us. NO RIGHT!” Spit flicked over Tyler’s face as he trembled.   
“Zack, you have 3 seconds to let go.”  
“OR WHAT? HEY? OR WHAT?!” Zack suddenly screamed at their dad.   
“OR I’LL CALL THE COPS GOD DAMMIT!” Dad yelled back at him aggressively.   
“Stop shouting, both of you stop shouting, you’re scaring him!” Mom cried.

“For fuck sake Zack, it has been a really fucking long day and the last thing any of us need is for you to trigger your brother. I get you’re angry, trust me, I fucking get it, but this is not how we treat family.”  
“Hit m-me a-ag-gain,”   
“The fuck did you just say to me?!” Zack scowl turned back to him.   
“Hit, me, a-again,” Tyler tried his best not to stammer, blood dribbling down his chin. “HIT ME! I d-d-de-deser-er-erve i-it!”  
“You’re a sick fuck, getting a high off a beating,” his little brother scoffed then spat on his foot.   
“He’s not enjoying it you idiot, he’s unwell! Please! Please, for Momma, just let him go,”

“Enough, you’ve made your point, you’ve made yourself look like a real big man, great job, now he’s probably gonna end up back in ER again tonight, congratulations Zackary, well done. Real smart move, congrats.”  
“DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT?!” Zack finally stopped pinning him up against the wall and allowed him to slide down to the floor in a tight ball as he turned to pick a fight with their dad instead.   
“He’s your brother! You should give a shit!”  
“HE’S NOTHING TO ME!”   
“That’s not true.” Dad’s lips pursed closed angrily, nostrils flaring.

“I AM PROTECTING MY FAMILY, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Zack screamed at him.   
“Protecting?! You think this is PROTECTING?!! You fuckwit. Your brother is hysterical, your mother is hysterical, I have no doubt Maddy and Jay will be upstairs in hysterics too. This isn’t protective! This is terrorising! You’re doing the same thing Ty did to us all those months ago! The same thing you’re so worked up about! In fact you’re worse because you know what the Hell you’re doing, and you’re still choosing to hurt us all like this.”  
“Dad-“  
“No. No, I don’t want to hear it, get the fuck out of my home. I don’t want to see you again tonight, I don’t give a toss where you go but it needs to be the Hell away from here. Get out.”

 

 

  
“Sweetheart please, you have to keep it there,” Mom whispered whilst lifting Tyler’s hand containing the ice pack back up to his face.   
“Doesn’t hurt.”  
“It will do if you don’t keep icing it Ty,”  
“S’cold.” He lowered it back down to his lap the moment she removed her hand.   
“It’s supposed to be baby, it’s ice.”  
“Too cold.” Tyler sulked.   
“Here, look, I’ll wrap it up even more for you.” She took it from him and unwound the tea towel then swaddled it up again so there were even more layers to protect him from the frozen block within.

“Don’t want to,” Tyler pushed it away tiredly as she tried one more time to convince him.   
“It’s gonna swell even more overnight if we leave it, please Tyler, I know you’re tired and it’s been a horribly long day, but I need you to do this honey. Otherwise the bruising is going to get far worse and tomorrow you’re gonna struggle with eating and drinking and talking.” Her voice was soft.   
“It hurts my stitches to hold it up.”  
“You can use your other arm darlin,”  
“But then I have to cross over my body and I feel all twisted.” He was overly tired and really just wanted to flop down on the sofa and sleep.

“You want Momma to hold it for you bubba? And hold you too?” She eventually asked and Tyler nodded with a small yawn. “Alright, snuggle up sweetheart, get comfy.”

Moving was painful. His instinct was to shuffle using his arms to scoot, but the moment his hand made contact with the couch cushion, sharp jolts of pain made him quickly bail and take any weight off his recently stitched bicep. Instead he shimmied backwards to get closer to her, but twisting his neck to see whether he was close enough involved moving his face, and moving his face was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Zack had done a good job with the one punch. He hadn’t managed to knock out any teeth, Mom had checked, but he had managed to cut the inside of Tyler’s cheek, bruised the outside of his cheek, cut the inside of his lips, and completely bust the outside of his lips so the bottom had bloody rips weaved between deep purple bulges from the middle towards the left side, which pulsed constantly. Tyler knew it could have been a lot worse, in fact he had no doubt that Zack could have beaten him to death if he wanted to, but he couldn’t help pitying himself a little.

“Oh that’s nice baby, that’s good. Is it comfortable for you?” Mom said once he’d wriggled into position so she could hold his upper body like she was cradling a baby whilst his legs curled up next to her on the sofa, tucked round her side safely. He had to admit, it was divinely comfortable.   
“Yeh,”

“S’cold, I know, I’ll do it for a few minutes then take a break,” she had taken the ice pack for herself and delicately held it to his humongous lip in hope of subduing it. “Momma used to hold you like this all the time.”  
“When I was little?” His voice was weak and squeaky.   
“Right from when you were a baby until you were maybe 11 or 12? Then we took a break because you decided you were too grown up for huggles anymore. And then when the depression and OCD got really bad as a teen we started again, and even occasionally when you were really sick before hospital.” Mom told him slowly and quietly. “You used to call it your calm down cuddle, every time you used to get all worked up and in a tizzy and you couldn’t control yourself, you’d tell me to hold you like this. I think it was a grounding strategy, like your weighted blanket, before we even knew what grounding strategies are.”

“Tizzy?”  
“Sorry, do you not like me calling it that? I should say episode, they were OCD episodes pre-diagnosis.”  
“I had OCD as a child?”  
“We think so sweetheart, yeah,” she played with his hair whilst removing the ice pack ever so slightly to give him a moment’s rest bite. “On reflection you did exhibit a lot of symptoms, and it does make sense to Momma, and all I can say is I’m sorry I didn’t spot it earlier and get you help sooner.”

“Mom,”  
“Yes baby?”  
“Mom, is Zack gonna come back?”  
“No.”  
“Never?”  
“Not for as long as he’s acting like that. If he can’t control his anger then no, never.”  
“Oh,” he hadn’t been expecting that response.

“But he won’t stay angry so that’s purely hypothetical. He’s a smart boy really, just overly driven by his emotions, and I’m sure a night away will give him enough time to see the err of his ways so tomorrow he’ll come back with his tail between his legs begging for forgiveness. And Ty, you don’t have to forgive him immediately, okay? He was really nasty to you after a really yucky day, and you don’t have to say that’s okay because it’s not.”

“I forgive him.”  
“Yeah eventually you probably will, but there’s no rush sweetheart. You’re allowed to be upset and angry because he lashed out at the worst possible moment - not that it would ever be okay of course. But just take your time Ty.”  
“No, Mom, I forgive him, I already forgive him.”  
“Baby, he punched you in the face an hour ago.”  
“I know, I’m not dumb.” He whispered.   
“No no, I know you’re not honey, I know, I just want to make sure you don’t get confused or anything. You do remember what he did? What he said? Don’t you?”  
“Yeh, but, but, Granny, she already helped me understand on the drive from the hospital, she already told me he’s just angry because he’s sad.”  
“Well, yeah,” even from from her lap, Tyler could see the frown on her face.

“And he’s sad because I’m really sick and I used to be even sicker, and he worries about me.”  
“Yeah that’s true baby,” she still wasn’t convinced.   
“So really it shouldn’t be him asking for forgiveness, it should be me. I was the one who drank and did drugs and didn’t take care of myself, I was the one who did something wrong, I should be the one asking him to forgive him.”  
“Oh sweetheart, no, because you didn’t choose to do any of those things, Zack chose to hit you.”  
“He didn’t choose to be worried though Mom, he didn’t choose to be scared and confused and angry. He, he just, he got overwhelmed and freaked and lashed out, just like I did this morning, just like I do all the time.”

Tyler could tell she wasn’t sure how to reply, her words seemed to stick in her throat as she considered what was the correct line to walk, but she was interrupted as the door to the living room opened and Dad cautiously tiptoed in. Without even realising, Tyler curled further into his mom protectively, heart setting off at rapid fire at the idea of getting yelled at again.

“He sleeping?” Dad whispered.   
“No, we’re just having a little chat.” Mom replied as she played with his hair reassuringly.   
“Okay,” his voice was a little louder but not by much. “Finally got Jay to sleep and Madison’s on her phone in bed but it won’t be much longer till she passes out too I reckon. She’s completely wiped.”   
“Good, thanks Chris.”  
“She got a text too, from Zack, saying that he’s staying with Dan from high school tonight but he’s hoping to come home this weekend before heading back to Michigan.”  
“We’ll see.”  
“I said to say the same thing, it’s too early to decide.”  
“Perfect,” Mom hummed as she kept on looking at Tyler with sad eyes.

“How’s the lip? Are we looking at an ER trip tonight? Or maybe the urgent care clinic?”   
“Could be a lot worse, I think we might’ve been lucky,” Mom sighed. “What do you think baby? Do we need to get some medical help?”  
“They might section me.” Tyler murmured.   
“No. You already had a psych eval today which you passed, and this isn’t a self inflicted injury.”  
“And we won’t let them.” Dad added, much to his surprise.

“But I thought you wanted me hospitalised?” Tyler tried to sit up from his mom’s embrace but didn’t have the core strength after months, maybe years, without exercise, and couldn’t use his arms to prop himself. Mom noticed and guided him up with careful hands, then helped him get comfy sat next to her instead. The ice pack was temporarily abandoned.

“Truthfully?” Dad crouched down on the carpet opposite them for a few seconds before groaning and fully sitting down instead. “Truthfully I personally would feel more comfortable if you were in a hospital because that way I can tell myself you’re safe.”  
“Mmm,” Tyler listened with baited breath.   
“I didn’t fully appreciate what it was like for you though, how much you hated it. I figured you just preferred being here because it’s more relaxed and we’re not trained or anything so you can get away with more, like the incident this morning.”  
“No, Dad, it’s not like that.”  
“I know son, I know, I’ve done some soul searching whilst you were with your gran at the hospital and, with your mother’s help, I’ve come to realise that you can’t truly recover from anxiety and depression and panic attacks whilst being surrounded by people who scare you. And if you can’t get rid of the panic attacks then you can’t get rid of the escalations either.” His voice was a little deeper than usual as Tyler listened with relief.

“So, we’ve agreed you can stay here-“  
“Thank you thank you.”  
“Ty, we’ve agreed on the condition that you don’t relapse with self harm. If there’s another serious incident like today then we’ll have no choice but to admit you.”  
“I, I, I can’t, I can’t control it, I didn’t want to do it, it just, I, it wasn’t my choice, I can’t stop it.”

“What happened baby? You haven’t even told us why yet.” Mom’s voice was softer, as if she was scared the words would break him.   
“Hallucination.”  
“Okay, can you tell us what you saw?”  
“Someone I love was mad at me, and killed themselves in front of me.” He tried not to think about it too much.   
“Josh?” Dad asked but was immediately hushed by his wife.   
“Sh, doesn’t matter who, let’s not delve back down that route, but I’m sorry that happened Ty. As long as you’re aware it’s not real, and whoever the person was is safe.”  
“Are you sure he’s safe?” Tyler asked nervously.   
“I am completely sure, 100%.”

“Do you know why you hallucinated kid? Did you have a panic attack or something?” Dad moved the conversation on.   
“N-no, no I don’t think so.”  
“You can’t think of anything that triggered it? Because if there’s a trigger then we can try and remove it so home is a safer place to be.”  
“I was alone.”  
“Momma just popped downstairs to help Jay get ready for school, then he asked me to drive him in so I did. I left a post it note on the wall, you might not have seen it. Your dad was here baby, you weren’t alone.” Mom kissed his temple.   
“When I woke I was alone.”  
“I thought you’d want a bit of space, not having me watch you sleep.” Dad explained his side of the story. “From now on we’ll make sure somebody sits with you till you wake.”  
“Thank you.”

“Also.” Tyler wasn’t sure whether to admit his mistake, admit his overestimation of his abilities to cope, admit his relapse was almost definitely as a result of looking at images of Josh on Instagram. If he did tell them, they’d take his phone away and refuse to let him see pictures again, let alone actually reunite with his love. But on the other hand, he really wanted to stay at home, he really really wanted to, and maybe if it prevented more episodes and helped fend off the hallucinations and established trust with his mother and father, then maybe he could stand a little longer without Josh.

“You can tell us sweetie, you won’t be in trouble I promise.”  
“I, um, Maddy, it’s not her fault, it’s absolutely not her fault, but she showed me something, an app, called Instagram.”  
“We know Instagram.”   
“Yeh, well, well I downloaded it too, she didn’t tell me to but I did, and I found Josh’s account, and I looked through all his pictures.”  
“Oh,”  
“It wasn’t his fault either, he didn’t post anything that would upset me, he, he seemed, he seemed really happy, it just, I don’t know, it, I, it was just, just, yeah. I don’t know,”

“It’s understandable son, he was a big part of your life and his reaction to Debby’s death almost certainly escalated your own response. It’s a, uh, a complex situation which I don’t think any of us are truly able to navigate just yet, nor are we ready to try, but I am proud that you’re admitting to yourself and to us that he can be triggering for you, because I know how deeply you still care for him Ty.” Dad spoke up softly yet without hesitation.

“We can’t stop you caring, nor can we take away the happy memories you have of your relationship, but hopefully we can help you recognise this idea of causality. Being reminded of Josh causes you to get upset, which causes these downwards spirals that lead to incidents such as this morning’s.” He said whilst his mom lovingly stroked him in a soothing circular motion. “Do you agree with that? I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”  
“I, um, I, yeh I spose.”  
“So to try and minimise the chance of repeating the spiral, we need to eliminate the initial reactant.”  
“Eliminate Josh??”  
“No, we’re not going to do anything to hurt him or anything ridiculous like that, so please don’t even let your mind go down that alley Ty. I know we can’t just erase him. We could start with deleting Instagram though?”  
“Okay.” Tyler nodded, knowing the only reason he’d ever use it was for Josh, and if Josh made him spiral and spirals lead to hospitalisation then he’d have no choice but to prioritise his health.

“Baby you’re being really brave.” Mom took her turn to say something.   
“Yeah you’re doing great son, really really well. I have to admit that when you were panicking whilst I was chucking Zack out, I thought we were in for another cycle of panic attacks leading to self harm leading to ER. But no, you’ve clawed it back-“  
“After an exhausting day as well,” she added to her husband’s praise.   
“Yep, crappy day. You’ve done spectacularly this evening and I’m really proud.”  
“Thanks.”

“Do you know why that is Tyler? That you were able to calm yourself down this evening but couldn’t this morning?”  
“I already said. I hallucinated then but I didn’t this time.”  
“So do you only self injure when you’re hallucinating?”  
“I, uh, I, I mean yeah, I guess? I don’t want to do it, I don’t, I don’t get anything out of it anymore, you know? Like when I was a kid and I cut, it was a relief and tiny bit of a buzz if I’m honest, but now, eugh,” Tyler felt strange talking about it with his parents watching with eager tracking eyes. “Now I’m too good at it. Now it’s too easy to end up hitting an artery or whatever. Cutting, it, it used to be a coping method, but now it’s become a suicide attempt every incident.”  
“Yeah,” Mom was still rubbing calmingly.   
“I don’t want to do it, it only happens when I lose control, and that’s most often when I’m hallucinating.”

“Do you still get self harm urges?” Dad asked and Tyler thought about it before answering.   
“Yeh.”  
“A lot?”  
“Yeh.”  
“The fact you’ve done such a good job of ignoring and overcoming them is testament to your strength Ty. 8 months clean until today’s blip - we’re so proud of you kiddo and you should be proud too.”  
“Urges aren’t just cutting though, I get other ones and sometimes I act on them.”  
“Like what?”  
“Head banging.”  
“Have you had those thoughts since coming home?”  
“Yeh.”  
“Have you done it? Head banged here?”  
“No.”  
“There we go, your strength shining through yet again.” Dad had a small smile on his face that made Tyler want to cry.

“Relapse isn’t a failure of strength, it’s exhaustion from being strong for so long.” He sounded like a cringe tumblr quote account, but nonetheless Tyler knew he was trying to understand and that was enough to unleash the steady trickles of tears down his cheeks.

“We’re so proud of you baby.” Mom murmured with her lips just millimetres from his temple, hovering for a moment before pressing against him. “So incredibly proud.”  
“You’re doing the best you can, and it’s far surpassing my expectations. You’ve come a really long way in what’s really a short amount of time on the grand scale of things.”  
“I agree baby. You’ve turned your life around in a year.”   
“I’m still so unhappy.”  
“But you’ve come so far baby,”  
“I’m so tired.” Tyler’s eyelids were heavy and his eyelashes sticky with tears, one long blink dragging on for the length of half a dozen.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Dad sighed.   
“I didn’t, I didn’t mean that kind of tired.”  
“You’re tired of everything being a battle, I know kiddo, but you’re also in need of some sleep. Why don’t you hop in our double with us tonight? Sleep in between us like when you were a kid? We upgraded to a king size so there’ll be plenty of room for you to snuggle.”  
“Yeh, um, that, uh, okay, yeah that sounds nice.”


	8. Square One

“Mom.”  
“Yes baby?” She paused brushing her hair in the mirror to turn and face him in the double bed.

“Is my schedule written up next door?”  
“I haven’t had a chance yet sweetie, but we can go do it together in a minute if you’d like.”  
“Is that okay?”  
“Yeah course.” Mom nodded with a reassuring smile. “We’re just gonna have a nice calm day today though, lots of resting, lots of down time. Only difficulties might be that we have to do a dressing change for your arm which might be triggering for you, and Maddy and Jay will be around because it’s the weekend. Your dad’s gonna keep reminding them to give you space and if they’re really making you anxious then they can go out for a trip or something and leave us to it, but that’s just something to bare in mind, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”  
“Sore.” He answered honestly. His whole face had swollen further overnight, and although his lip was moving at rapid speed and starting to heal, the skin around had developed darker and more sensitive bruising, and it hurt to breathe. To add further complications, his damaged bicep was aching and the tight stitches were tugging sharply, and both his inner elbows had blown up with bruises from his IVs too. No part of his body felt okay.

“Should we try a nice hot bath?”   
“I’m not allowed to get my stitches wet, am I?”  
“No I don’t think so, but we could try some low tech solutions with cling film or a plastic bag and gaffer tape or something, or we could do quite a shallow bath so you can keep your arm out?”  
“Feel like it won’t be relaxing.” He sniffed honestly.   
“Maybe not. How about I light the fire downstairs and get you some hot water bottles and you can get all warm and snuggled with some blankets, does that sound appealing?”  
“I, uh, um, I, I don’t know.”  
“Alright poppet, no rush to decide.” She said calmly as she finished brushing her shoulder length blonde hair, then walked back over to join him on her double bed.

“We gonna focus really hard on communication today, yeah?”   
“How do you mean?”  
“I want you to talk to me as much as possible. Air your views, your thoughts. Even if it’s just a commentary on what you’re doing, I want you to try and get into the habit of talking to me. I’m not suggesting 24 hour therapy, more keeping Momma in the loop with what your brain’s up to. That way I can do a better job of keeping you in a good place. Maybe good is the wrong word, but a safe mindset at least, yeah?”   
“Okay.” Tyler agreed, not knowing whether he was even able to open himself up like that, but willing to try so that he didn’t have a repeat of yesterday.

“And as for Zack,”  
“Yes?”  
“I think we should ask him to stay away. Do you agree?” Mom’s voice was gentle yet pushing, and Tyler just shrugged unsure. “I don’t know whether he will have calmed down yet, but I don’t think you deserve to be put through the anxiety of finding out either way. If he has something he’d like to say then he can put it in a letter, but I think we should let him go back to university this weekend without seeing him.”

“What, um, be, before Granny dropped me back from hospital, what happened? How did he find out? How did he react? Was he always mad or was it just once he saw me?”  
“Sweetheart I don’t think this is the right foot to start our day on.”  
“Please.”  
“Ty.”  
“Please, I was up thinking about it all night, please.”  
“Okay, but I’m not going into details.” She gave in easier than Tyler was expecting. “Maddy’s bus was actually on time for once so she beat us home, and she walked in on the scene in the bathroom-“  
“My blood.”  
“Yes.” She sighed already. “And understandably she was upset. Your father and I didn’t take our phones to the hospital because we were focussed on you and the paramedics at the time we left, so her calls didn’t come through, so the next person she tried was Zack. She was very scared, and he got protective of that, and jumped in the car to be here and comfort her. I don’t know what was said during that phone call, but I know once he arrived he was very worked up. At some point his protectiveness tipped to anger, and that’s what you were met with.”

“Do you think that, um, that he’d still be angry even if I hadn’t cut myself?”  
“I can’t say baby, I honestly don’t know.”  
“Feels like I messed things up between us by relapsing.”  
“It’s not your fault. Things are strained right now, but that protectiveness he feels for Maddy is also extended to you. He’s protective of his family-“  
“He doesn’t see me as family anymore.”  
“Of course he does Tyler, don’t be silly, he’s your best friend.”  
“Last night he said it, he said I’m nothing to him anymore.”  
“He was overwhelmed and in a right old state, and you shouldn’t take anything he said to heart.”

“Was he right though?”   
“Right about what?”  
“He said you guys were doing better, making progress, putting yourselves back together after everything I did before Cygnet. Have I ruined that progress?”  
“No.”  
“You were better without me though, weren’t you?”  
“No Tyler.”  
“You were.”  
“No. The house was empty, the quiet was scary, the unspoken words between us and the kids made us argue every week.”  
“Unspoken words? What unspoken words?”  
“After we visited you, we wouldn’t necessarily tell them all the details because it wasn’t necessarily appropriate. They spotted the fact we were hiding some more mature things from them and would insist we tell them whilst Dad and I stayed fixed on the agreement that they don’t need to know about your self harm and other less positive sides to the visits. It caused tension.” Mom explained, before rushing to amend the potential for misunderstanding. “Our decision as parents to not be honest with your siblings caused tension, not your actions, us.”

“How badly did I fuck things up for you guys?”  
“You didn’t angel.”  
“Don’t lie to me Mom.”  
“I’m not lying to you Tyler, I’m sheltering you.”  
“I don’t need sheltering.” Tyler told her determinedly, but she just sighed before reaching out to softly stroke his face.

“We reacted, all of us, because we are humans. We each reacted in different ways because we are individuals, but nobody reacted so violently that in endangered their lives, or even anywhere close to that level of severity.”  
“How bad did things get?”  
“Why are you torturing yourself Ty?”  
“Because I hate myself, please, how bad did things get?”   
“This is something we could maybe discuss in family therapy if we ever decide to take the doctor’s advice and go down that route.” Mom was closing back up again right before his eyes.   
“Please Mom.”

“Speaking of therapy.”  
“Mmm,”  
“Do you remember Dr Wakefield?” She asked and he sighed, thinking for a moment.   
“No.”  
“You saw him a few times before, he’s the therapist with a specialism is psychosis. He was on your early intervention team after your episode at Cody’s party, with the soldiers.”   
“What does he look like?”  
“Older gentleman, white hair, well dressed. His office had a painting of poppies that you used to talk about in the car back every single session.”  
“I don’t remember.”  
“That’s okay bubba.” Mom smiled sympathetically. “Anyway, I spoke to him and he’s willing to do home visits for only a small additional travel fee for a couple of weeks until you feel up to going to his office. All we need to do is book a time.”

“Home visit, what, what’s that?”  
“Therapy, but at home.”  
“Where?”  
“Up to you, living room, or Dad’s office, or the kitchen table maybe? It’s up to you, and obviously we’ll give you loads of privacy so you don’t need to worry about eavesdropping or anything.”   
“Does he know? About Cygnet, and, a-and my diagnoses?”  
“Yep. I got your old team to do a full handover so they’ve had a big conference call to discuss your case, plus I’ve been to see him to give my take as a loved one rather than a professional. So no, you won’t have to explain everything to him, you can hop straight into talking about whatever you want or need to talk about.”

“I know it’s scary, I know Ty, and if you want Momma to sit and hold your hand during the first session then absolutely we can make that happen, but we do need to get you back into therapy to prevent things from getting bad again.” She must have picked up on the fear in his eyes and the hesitations in his breath. “Charles, he’s very good, and he knows you, and he’ll take things at your pace. If you just want to start off with a 20 minute session rather than an hour then that’s fine, or we could get you guys a board game to play whilst you’re talking as a distraction, or whatever else is going to make this easier for you poppet. But we do need to pencil an appointment time into the diary.”  
“O-okay.”  
“Good boy.”

 

 

  
After breakfast but before lunch, his mom had settled Tyler in the living room with a new book to try and read. A lot of books had been ruled out as triggering for his paranoia or his panic or his general inability to cope with scary things, crime, detective, mystery, horror. All the books written for adults. Romance was also out of the question, anything that reminded him of Josh was out of the question, he had to stay focussed on himself and his wellbeing and staying at home.

It left him with a very little range to choose from, and in the end Mom had given him a book that looked like it was probably meant for children. The Lost Island of Tamarind. It had a beautiful colour to the cover, an aquamarine ocean peeking between the cartoon jungle, and he’d spent longer looking at it than reading the actual story. He had enjoyed English at school, but he much preferred studying a rich section of a text in depth then walking away, opposed to reading a whole book for amusement. He just found himself getting wrapped up in his own thoughts every few sentences and then having to back track and try and find his place again.

He genuinely was trying to read, he knew it was something that was in his best interest to learn to enjoy, since there were very few other activities he could manage. The longer he spent in recovery, the more boring it became. He now possessed an awareness of reality, he could no longer live in his admittedly terrifying but nonetheless stimulating world of horrors, and yet he wasn’t ready to join the real world just yet. He couldn’t do what other 20 year olds were doing, he didn’t even know what they were doing, all he knew was that the sound his short fingernails made against the slightly yellowed paper made him feel funny inside as he turned the page.

As his eyes skimmed over the words, his brain couldn’t grasp their meaning. He knew what they said, he could still read, he just didn’t seem able to take any of it in. With caution not to move his shredded bicep too fast, he reached up with his arm and rubbed his eye with his palm until he started seeing stars, then sighed. If he couldn’t fall in love with reading, he’d be stuck with overthinking.

“Sweetheart.” The voice was a welcome break, and he looked up to see Mom at the door with Maddy hovering just behind her.   
“Hi.”  
“Hey, Maddy just made herself a fruit smoothie and had some left over, and she was wondering whether you’d like some?”  
“Um, what, what’s in it?”  
“Uhh, lemme think, strawberry, raspberry, mango, apple juice, blueberries, grapes, peach. Pretty much all the fruit I could find. Tastes good.” Maddy told him softly.   
“No banana though?”  
“There’s only like 2 small ones in there.”  
“But you can’t taste them honey, it’s just to thicken it up.” Mom explained.   
“I don’t like banana.”  
“You don’t wanna try? Even just a little bit?” She asked and he knew at that point that this wasn’t really about the smoothie, it was about his relationship with his sister.

“Okay, just a small glass though please.”  
“Plastic cup cupcake, bottom cupboard by the fridge.” Mom said to Maddy as she left to get him the drink, then she walked into the room and sat next to him on the sofa.

“She wasn’t planning on putting bananas in because she knows you don’t like them, but I convinced her it was okay. I’m sorry. Just pretend to drink and then I will actually when she looks away?”  
“Okay.” Tyler nodded, putting his book aside without a bookmark. It wouldn’t take long to find page 4 again.

“How are you getting on with the book?”  
“Good, yeah, it’s really interesting.”  
“I don’t believe you.” She said with a knowing smile, and he just shrugged. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”  
“What else could I do though?”   
“Have a rest? Maybe even try a nap? I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”   
“Seems like all I do is rest.” He traced a seam on the couch with his fingertip, avoiding eye contact.   
“Well you had a busy day yesterday darling, you need time to recover.”  
“But every day at home I just rest.”  
“Because anxiety is draining and you need to respect that so you don’t fatigue yourself, and because you have a big debt of sleep deprivation to pay off. Plus your body, it’s been through a lot Tyler. Alcoholism, drug abuse, self injury, surgeries, starvation. It’s wearied, it needs time to get healthy again, and even though it’s been on the right track recently, we can’t push things too far. You need to rest.”  
“Mmm.”

“This isn’t your life forever though baby, if that’s what you’re thinking. You won’t spend the next 70 years resting, just the next couple of months. After that we’ll start reintroducing some activity back in, slowly at first, and work you up to a level you’re comfortable with.” She explained through a whisper. “I know it’s a little on the boring side, I do appreciate that, but it’s safe and sustainable which is really important, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler yawned then shrugged.

Maddy came shuffling back into the room with a tall plastic cup filled with a rich purple red smoothie and a small proud smile on her face. He had to have plastic after his incident with glass the previous day, but immediately his mind told him he could still do plenty of damage with a sharp enough shard. He told his mind to shut up.

“Looks nice,” he whispered as his mom took the drink off Maddy for him. “Thanks.”  
“You’re welcome.” She smiled sweetly.

“Maddy darling, are you still planning on going to the movies a bit later?”  
“Maybe, Zack wants to meet, so I dunno what I’ll end up doing yet.”  
“Zack?” Tyler’s head shot up at the sound of his name.   
“He’s not coming here, don’t worry, he wants me to go and see him at a coffee shop to talk.”  
“To talk about me?”  
“Maybe a little bit, would that be okay? Just so I can explain that you’re home and you’re okay and-“  
“Maddy, no, we don’t talk about Tyler behind his back. It’s Momma’s job to explain the situation, and I’ll do that at an appropriate time with Tyler’s input and consent. That’s not your job.”

“But you will talk to him, won’t you Mom? He’s really confused, and upset, and yeah, he just, he needs to know what’s going on.”  
“I will talk to him, I will, but Tyler’s my priority.”   
“I shouldn’t be.”  
“Sweetheart,” she sighed and stroked his knee with her thumb. “You are my focus, your safety is my focus, and as much as I love your brother, he’s violent and irrational when he’s worked up and I need to give him the time and the space to cool off.”   
“Understanding the situation would help him cool off so much qui-“  
“Madison, enough now please darling. I will deal with Zack, but for as long as that mark is on his face, I won’t be able to deal with him calmly.” Mom told her whilst inspecting Tyler’s bust lip with a saddened expression.

“If Zack wants to talk today, he can call and we’ll talk, but I will almost definitely yell at him and I won’t be overly receptive to an apology. He hurt my son, and that’s fresh on my mind still, and I can’t promise I’ll be able to stay calm and considerate whilst talking. I think he should be patient and respect me and respect Tyler enough to wait until we’re ready to talk. Can you pass that on for me?”  
“Okay.” Maddy looked tearful, but Tyler knew their mom hadn’t noticed, she was too busy staring at his bloody bruising creeping from his lips up his cheek.

“Thanks again for the smoothie.” Tyler whispered as she turned to leave.   
“No problem.”

 

 

 

“Alright baby, okay, all done. You can open your eyes now if you want.” Mom told him as she finished pressing down the new sticky white dressing over his laceration after removing the old one and cleaning the site. Tyler had whimpered through the whole process with occasional tears punctuating his gasps, unable to cope with the scary thoughts about self injury and contamination and physical contact. His mom had tried her best to be supportive but was more focussed on getting the job done as quickly and painlessly as possible, and Tyler could still feel a panic attack bubbling in his gut.

“Good job baby, you were so brave.”  
“Is i-it done?”  
“Finished.”  
“Is the bl-blood gone?” His eyes were still pressed closed.   
“There was no blood sweetheart.”  
“Even on the o-old g-gauze?”  
“Nope, just a lil discoloured liquid, no blood, but I’ve folded it up and put it in the little paper baggy to burn later so you can’t see it anyway. There’s nothing upsetting to look at I promise.” She said but Tyler still gave himself a few more seconds before deciding to trust her. He knew she wouldn’t lie, but he also knew seeing the tiniest amount of blood could trigger him and he wanted to be absolutely sure.

“Sit up slowly, good boy,” Mom helped him transition from lying on his bed to sitting up instead, a guiding hand on his shoulder. “You did amazing, I know you were really worried about that Tyler, Momma’s proud of you darling.”

The hospital had given them half a dozen dressings the exact right size to cover the wound that ran almost the entire length of his inner upper arm, and Tyler knew his mom was more than well versed in how to look after his self harm wounds. He had confidence in her to do the right thing for him medically, but he didn’t have faith in himself not to irritate the wound and consequently delay the healing process and worsen the eventual scar.

“Can I have a, uh, a b-bandage?”  
“A bandage? What, wrapped around your arm again?”  
“Y-yeah,”  
“Sweetheart that was just to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Now the bleeding has stemmed you don’t need it anymore.”  
“To stop me p-picking.”  
“Do you think you might pick?”  
“Ye-yeah,” he nodded shakily.   
“And you’re not just saying that so you can have a long piece of fabric to ligature with?”  
“No! No, M-Mom, I w-wouldn’t! Please, I know you don’t trust me, but please!”

“I don’t even know if we have any bandages Tyler.”  
“I-isn’t there a b-box in the b-bathroom?”  
“That’s got some cohesive bandages but they’ve been used before, they’re the reusable ones that Maddy straps her knee with for basketball, I don’t want anything not sterile close to your wound because otherwise we’ll be back in the ER all over again with an infection.”  
“Or th-that one?” He gestured to the one she’d taken off him to get to the cut in the first place.   
“This is used too, it’s dirty Ty. Come on, you know about cleanliness and contamination.” She frowned and for a second Tyler was in shock that she’d even say something like that.

“That’s not what OCD is Mom.” He didn’t stutter at all as he told her definitely.   
“I know.”  
“OCD is having to touch a spot on the wall 128 times or my family dies, it’s having to get from the bed to the door in 4 steps or my family dies, it’s not being allowed to eat or my family dies. It’s not that I like cleaning.”  
“Baby I know, I said what I said because you’re a smart boy. I meant you’re clever enough to understand about infections, I wasn’t referring to anything about your mental health I promise.”

“Can I sit up on the bed with you?” She asked a second later when he didn’t instantly forgive her. “Tyler?”  
“Okay.”  
“Thank you.” Mom climbed up and sat close enough to be caring but not so much it was invasive to his personal space. “We haven’t talked about any of your diagnoses yet, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t talked to anybody about them. I spoke to your team, and Dr Wakefield, and I went to a support group for parents of mentally ill children almost every week for 6 months and spoke to all of them about the conditions and learnt how it affects their children. I spent a lot of time online talking to people on forums, and read pretty much everything there is to read, both on websites and in print. I’ve done my best to wise up - but I know that’s not the same as hearing it from you. So if you ever want to take the time to explain to me in your own words how any of your illnesses affect you then I would be honoured to listen, okay?”

“I know OCD isn’t just cleaning, I know. I’ve lived with you for 20 years Tyler, I’ve seen the things it makes you do - the breathing thing where it only lets you take all your breaths for the whole minute within the ‘good’ seconds, and the tapping patterns it won’t let you stop even when you’re shattered, and the pacing and the counting and the sorting and the repeating and all the other shit you have to deal with. I know it gives you intrusive thoughts, I know it makes you think things, terrible things, and I know you’re petrified of those things Ty. I know better than thinking this is just something that makes you want to clean up.”

Tyler wanted to say something in response. He wanted to apologise for underestimating her research and understanding. He wanted to thank her for all the time she had spent finding her information. He wanted to ask her if she had any questions. But all he could do was cry.

“Oh baby. Can Momma give you a hug? Would that be okay?” She asked gently and he nodded profusely whilst shuffling across the distance between them and falling into her arms as she softly rocked him back and forth with her lips pressed to his head. “Baby baby,”  
“I’m s-so t-t-tired M-Mom,”  
“It’s hard, incredibly hard, but you are immensely strong darling.”  
“I h-h-ha-a-ate th-thi-i-isss,”  
“I hate it too bubba, it’s horrible and yucky, and I wish I could fix it. But Tyler, love, you are doing so well!”  
“I’m n-n-not! LOOK!” He cried out whilst shoving his cut arm out for her to see. She just shushed him and gently pulled the limb closer, holding him, kissing him, loving him.

“You’re in a new environment with a totally new routine, and I haven’t seen you do a single compulsion, not one. I don’t know what you’re thinking, and I don’t know what you’re doing without me present, but I do know that when the OCD was really strong when you were a teenager, you would not have been able to manage as well as you are. You literally never stopped completely rituals Tyler, never, there was always something that needed to be touched or counted or tapped, always something you needed to be doing, always something distracting you and keeping you from being able to see how deeply we loved you. And yes, you’re scared, but you don’t have that same distant look in your eyes as you did when you were trapped in its grasp.”

“I’m b-better now, the, the, the OCD, Cygnet helped me.”  
“I know they did poppet, they taught you the skills you needed to overcome it, but ultimately it was you who did the hard work, it’s your achievement.” Mom whispered. “You’ve worked really hard this year, really really hard, and I know it’s had its ups and downs - sometimes maybe you pushed yourself too hard, or they pushed you too hard, and maybe it was the other patients pushing too much, but nonetheless you’ve continued this upwards trajectory-“  
“Until n-now!” Tyler sobbed hopelessly as she tutted sympathetically and sighed whilst holding him close.

“It’s a blip, not a reset. You’re not back to square 1, you’ve just had a little hiccup sweetheart.”   
“8 m-months M-Mom! 8 m-months d-down the dr-drain!”  
“No, not down the drain, it’s not wasted Tyler. You don’t keep clean for the sake of a streak, you keep clean so that your body can recover and so that you’re safe, and well. You managed that for a really really long time, and yesterday was a difficult exception, but now you’re back on track again, right?”  
“1 day cl-clean - it’s p-path-thetic!”  
“Firstly it’s not pathetic, there were times when you couldn’t even manage an hour clean. A full day is still impressive to me when I think back Ty. Secondly, tomorrow it will be two days, and then three.”

“I j-just w-want Josh to b-be im-p-pressed.” Tyler told her honestly, remembering what she’d said about communication, and just wanting to feel his name leave his lips.

“He’s impressed.”  
“Y-you d-don’t kn-know th-that.”  
“I do. I talk to him a lot, he’s one of my best friends. He asked me about you a lot before we discharged you, a lot. He knew when your ward round summary notes were sent to me and he’d always ask for an overview, and he knew when your visiting times and any leave to the park you had was and he’d ask me how it went. He’d ask about you almost every time we saw each other. And I didn’t want to tell him anything too personal, because it’s your life, and your recovery, and your story to tell, but I did tell him little details and one of those details was that you managed all that time without cutting. He knows you went 8 months, and he is impressed Tyler.”

“I know, um,” he sniffed and Mom reached up and wiped his face with her sleeve, careful to avoid the painful bruising. “I know that, uh, th-that I’m n-not s-supp-posed to see h-him, because I g-get up-s-set.”   
“Yeah,”  
“B-but I will see h-him o-one d-day, won’t I?”  
“Do you want to see him one day? In the distant future?”  
“I th-thin-nk so,”  
“Well if he says the same thing then absolutely we can arrange that Tyler. And if you want to talk about how clean you are then you can say 14 months from morphine, 14 months from alcohol, and 8 months with one exception from cutting - plus, yanno, however many months it is until you see him. You can keep including the 8 months before yesterday if you want.”   
“I-it, it d-doesn’t w-work like tha-at,”

“Sweetheart, they’re just numbers, okay? And sometimes numbers can be our friend because they’re super easy to compare and it shows us immediately the progress you’ve made since we first admitted you. But the things we count, the numbers, that’s just us trying to quantify the progress you’ve made within yourself. We can’t easily compare your mental state, it’s difficult to break down and comprehend, so we turn to the easy option of counting how many times you self injure and how many panic attacks and how many psychotic episodes you have. But those numbers, they’re not you. Your well-being is not just your stats. You’ve come so far Tyler, truly you have, in areas that you can’t tally. The quality of conversation you can now hold has soared, your awareness of your surroundings has increased dramatically, your tolerance of anxiety and triggers is astounding. You’re improving every day, and maybe you have a few slip ups here and there, but you’re only human, yeah? You’re only human, and you’re doing your best, and that’s more than good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight filler, but yanno, last chapter was a LOT and I think everyone just needs to regather


	9. Blood Bugs

“One second! I just need to find my coat!” Maddy yelled from the closet under the stairs as she rummaged around for the jacket she was looking for.   
“We’re gonna be late Madster, come on darling, get a shake on,” Dad called from the front door as Tyler watched, crouched on the second step of the staircase with his legs pulled close to his chest and a soft smile on his face as he made eye contact with Jay, also stood out on the porch.

The 11 year old was surprisingly shy for his grand stature, and for a while Tyler had been worried that maybe Jay didn’t even remember his big brother. It was a very real possibility. Debby had died almost 2 and a half years ago, it had been almost 2 and a half years since Tyler had been himself, and maybe Jay couldn’t remember that long ago? But over the weekend, through small interactions, smiling at each other in the hall and saying hello and good night, they’d begun to slowly get to know each other again, and Tyler felt safe around his youngest brother. He knew Jay was just curious, trying to figure out who the skinny guy with the striped skin was, and Tyler was just trying to figure out who the little boy had become in his absence. It was a safe and relaxed relationship, one Tyler could trust wasn’t going to turn confrontational.

Maddy on the other hand was very much a 15 year old girl. She could be soft, and gentle, and sensitive, and then 10 seconds later screaming the house down. Thankfully she’d been considerate so far, wary of the situation, but Tyler knew that she could flip at any moment. She definitely remembered him. She definitely remembered everything he did. Everything he put them through. She remembered. And although he could tell she was doing her best not to hold it against him, Tyler was very aware that she was very hurt, and it could come spilling out very quickly with no warning. So even though she held better conversations than Jay, he was a little more cautious around her.

“Okay okay, found it,” She jogged to the door whilst trying to throw her long woollen coat over her beautiful dress. The two children and their father were dressed up on the smarter side but still wrapped up warm enough to last the cold November weather, ready to attend the Sunday church sermon then go out for hot chocolate and cake.

They’d offered him the opportunity to tag along, but it was more a pleasantry than sincere since he hadn’t even left the house yet - with the exception of the ambulance trip. Nonetheless Dad had promised to get him a red velvet cupcake and a hot chocolate in a takeaway cup, saying he wanted him to feel included but wasn’t going to force him to consume either, just wanted him to have the option. He was trying extra hard that day.

“Don’t forget my salted caramel cupcake.” Mom reminded them as they made their way down the path towards the car.   
“We won’t, bye love, bye Ty,” Dad waved with a small smile.   
“Bye guys,” she waved back and she closed the front door after them.

“Right, just the two of us for the rest of the morning now baby.” Mom span to face him.   
“Sounds good.”  
“Yes it does.” She agreed with a little laugh, joining him on the staircase on the step below. “It is Sunday, and we can do some scriptures and prayers if you’d like, but I am not expecting that to be something you’re up for.”  
“Um, I, uh, not, not for me thanks, but I mean you can? If that’s something you want to do? I don’t wanna stop you.”  
“Oh that’s okay baby, God knows just how appreciative I am for all His blessings, I thank Him every morning and every night and a dozen times in between for everything He’s done for us and our family, and bringing you home. I don’t need to allot anymore time to my prayers, I know they’re being listened to and answered, and I am so grateful already.”  
“Yeah.” Tyler gulped, trying to be subtle whilst also trying to stay calm.

“One of my favourite psalms at the moment, it makes me think of you, is 34:17. It says The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Isn’t that nice, hey? Reassuring?”

“I know you struggle with it Ty, your faith.” Mom kept her voice steady, but didn’t make eye contact. “You always have, I’ve always known that, and I’ve always been okay with that. Do I want you to feel the love and glory of our lord almighty? Yes, yes I do. Will I pressure you into believing something you don’t? No, never. It’s your journey to go on, finding God, it’s something for you to do and not to be pushed into by anybody, especially not your family.”  
“Thank you.” Tyler picked at a little bit of dry skin on his hand.

“You’re an intelligent boy, and a creative one too, and I commend you for not just accepting things because we tell you to, but instead learning about and exploring and questioning them for yourself. And maybe that’s created a gap between you and God, but that’s okay. You’re just figuring things out right now.”  
“Yeh.”

“Tyler, I appreciate that everything Josh went through with his church, it’s probably impacted your view on religion.” He was surprised that she had brought it up, but simultaneously glad. Sometimes he felt like people forgot too often the Hell Josh had endured for the first 18 years of his life. “I just want you to know that they are not Christians. His parents are not Christians. Christians do not hurt people, we love one another, we do no hurt anyone and they simply used the Bible and their deity as a false vessel to disguise their abusive nature. That’s not something God would ever support or encourage, and they will be punished for it one day.”  
“Mmm.”  
“It’s a tricky subject, I know, and we don’t have to talk about it. I just wanted you to be aware that they do not fall under the umbrella title of Christians. They do not belong to my faith, and I truly believe there’s a special place in Hell reserved just for them.”  
“Yeah.”

“That’s all I wanted to say on the matter, we can move on now baby.”  
“But, um,” Tyler finally earned eye contact.   
“Yes darling?”  
“On, uh, on my whiteboard, it uh, it says, on the to do list, that I need to fix a time for Father Winston to visit.”  
“Oh that was just a suggestion, in case you’d reconnected with God at Cygnet, or you wanted to discuss and explore it with a member of the clergy. I thought it might be helpful in certain situations. If it’s not something that’s going to make you feel better then we can rub it off.”  
“We can?”  
“Yep. It was just an offer. We can rub off Father Winston, and we can shelve any other ideas surrounding the church for the near future. You can still reach up and grab them if that’s something you decide to throw yourself into, but I think we should fight one battle at a time, and right now your comfort in your own home takes precedence over your comfort on a church pew.”

 

 

Tyler didn’t like Sundays. He never had. He wasn’t sure why exactly, couldn’t put his finger on the reason, but Sundays were his least favourite day of the week. When he was struggling with his mental health before Debby died and before shit hit the fan, Sundays were his worst days, the days when the compulsions were doubled and the intrusive thoughts tripled and the depressive thoughts became so overwhelming that he’d almost always have to resort to self harm to stop himself doing anything worse.

He still didn’t like Sundays.

It felt like something was hanging over him, looming over him, waiting for him. It felt like something was surrounding him, covering him, cutting him off from those around him. He could see his family, hear his family, just couldn’t break through and interact with his family. When they laughed, it echoed.

They were enjoying themselves. Dad had brought home a box of 12 cupcakes, and he’d put one on a little plate in front of Tyler at the table which had gone so far untouched, and given one to Mom which she ate immediately. Jay had seen her eating the cake so insisted on having one, in spite of the fact he’d had one in the shop, and then Maddy wanted one too and they were all giggling and high on sugar and teasing each other, Dad holding a cupcake above both their heads and making them jump for it. They were having fun. Tyler wished he could have fun too, wished he could get involved in the family amusement, wished he was part of the gang. But he wasn’t.

“Do you need to go next door?” A discrete whisper. A hand on his shoulder. His mom’s hand.   
“Why?”  
“You don’t look like you’re very comfortable. The living room will be quieter, more peaceful.”  
“Um, o, okay,” Tyler nodded nervously and so she helped him up and held his hand tightly whilst leading the way out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the front room.

After taking him to the couch, she went back across the room and picked up his weighted blanket. Tyler wasn’t decided on whether it actually helped or not, but it was Mom’s way of helping and so he took it from her without hesitation and flattened it across his lap as she tucked herself up next to him with a warm smile.

“Better?”  
“Yeah.” He sighed.   
“I know it was a bit too loud in there.” She cuddled up to him lovingly.   
“Wasn’t too loud.”  
“No?” Her hand ran through his slowly regrowing hair.   
“No.”  
“Is there something else then sweetheart? Because you don’t look very happy.”  
“I’m depressed.”  
“I know lovebug, I know. Is today an extra difficult day?”  
“I don’t know.” Tyler shrugged. He was feeling the weight of his baggage, but there was no reason for it.

“You don’t have to tell Momma if you’re not ready.” Mom sighed whilst hugging him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Tyler didn’t say anything, just allowed her to hold him as tightly as she wanted to. In recent days he’d grown to appreciate how much she valued the ability to even see him, let alone touch him, after so long without him. Even though he couldn’t see himself as the son she deserved, he was aware that nonetheless he was her son and she loved him in spite of his vast failures.

“You’re doing your best Tyler, don’t ever think that’s not enough.” She held the base of his neck in her hand as she told him firmly, then relaxed back into a cuddle again.

He didn’t feel relaxed, he didn’t feel good in the hug. It wasn’t even the excessive physical contact, it was simply an unfamiliar position to be in. Nobody at Cygnet gave hugs, the closest thing to hugs was 4 man restraints face down on the floor. The physical contact he was used to was forceful and stopping him from what he was desperate to do - self destruct - and he hadn’t quite settled back to the normal view of an embrace meaning support and love.

“How are you feeling?”  
“Sad.”  
“Sad? Oh, that’s not good.” Mom frowned sympathetically. “What should we do to help you feel better?”  
“Yep, that’s the thing, I do not know.” Tyler sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Can we go upstairs? I don’t want them to listen. Please?”  
“Course we can sweetie.” She put on her happy to help smile which Tyler didn’t believe, then helped him fold up the weighted blanket once more before leading the way up to the bedrooms.

Maddy and Jay had stopped giggling, but in an awkward sense. It was as though they had tuned into Tyler’s own mood and sunk to his level, and that piled a tremendous amount of guilt into him. If he could ignore it, he would. But he couldn’t.

“Our room? Or the double bed?” Mom asked once they arrived on the landing.   
“Don’t mind.”  
“Okay, well let’s go on the double so we can be close if you need a lil hug at any point.” She decided and again lead him forwards and down onto the bed she slept in before he had come home and changed everything up.

“What’s the matter darling?”  
“S’big question.”   
“I suppose it is, yes, but you can reply however you wish or need. It was just a conversation starter. You can start talking about anything you’d like, anything at all.”  
“That’s the, uh, the issue,” Tyler struggled with his wording. “There, um, there’s not really anything that I like.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I don’t enjoy, well, anything. Nothing brings me joy, nothing makes me happy, there’s nothing that excites me, nothing I like, and I don’t know what to do.”  
“Well, unfortunately, I think that’s just a part of depression angel. And it’s horrible, really horrible, but if you keep taking your medication and if we get you back into therapy then-“  
“Then what, I have a bright future?”   
“Yes.” She nodded without hesitation and Tyler looked away with tears bulging and blurring his vision as he tried not to sob.

“You have a very bright future. Maybe it’s a little unclear what direction you’ll go in, but you will be successful. Maybe you’ll be a successful business man, maybe a successful musician, maybe a successful family man; I don’t know, but I do know that you’re going-“  
“Mom!” Tyler cried out to snap her out of her dreams. “Look at me, I can’t, I can’t!”  
“You are making so much progress Tyler, every day-“  
“It doesn’t matter how much progress I make, does it?! It doesn’t matter how far I come because I will always be covered in scars!” Tyler choked on the final word, turning away and squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to claw back any hope of keeping things together, all the while hot tears raced down his cheeks.

“They’ll fade.” Her voice was timid and small.   
“They won’t.”   
“We can buy you some creams.”  
“They’re scams.”  
“We don’t know that until we try.” She was still quiet within herself as Tyler wiped his face with his palms over and over, still not making eye contact.

“They’re still relatively fresh, they won’t be as bold once they’re older.”  
“Mom,”  
“Plus there’s always make up, foundation, if you’re feeling particularly self conscious.”  
“Nobody is ever going to hire me. Nobody is ever going to want me. Nobody is ever going to love me.”  
“Don’t say that.” Mom shook her head whilst gesturing for him to come over, but he couldn’t.

“I’ve ruined it.”  
“You haven’t ruined anything.”  
“I’ve ruined everyth-th-i-ing.” Tyler finally crumbled after working so hard to fend off the flood. Jumping hiccuping sobs seized control of his body that his mom quickly scooped up and held close.

“Shhhshhshh, you’re okay, you’re okay. Deep breaths.” She murmured comfortingly. “It’s a bumpy road, the path you’ve been down, and it’s going to be bumpy for a lil while longer, but the destination is going to be so beautiful Ty. You’ve just got to hang on sweetie.”  
“Wh-wh-why??”  
“Why have you got to hang on?” Mom asked, stroking his short hair back as he nodded ever so slightly. “Because the best thing about rock bottom is there’s nowhere else to fall. Things are going to get better Tyler, they are, I promise.”

“And I know you’re scared for the future, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t as well, but I have faith that things are going to pan out just fine. Maybe it won’t be everything you’ve ever dreamed of in the way you dreamed of it, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be satisfying and happy.”

“Your concerns, about not being hireable, they’re a non issue. Long sleeve shirts with cufflinks can hide a lot-“  
“Not my h-hands. Not my neck,” Tyler whimpered.   
“Turtlenecks, scarfs, make up, gloves, ascot ties, long jacket sleeves. You have options.”  
“W-won’t w-wor-ork.”  
“We have plenty of time to figure it out.” Mom replied immediately. “If we can’t, maybe you work from home, maybe you get an online job, maybe you say to hell with what people think.”

“When it comes to nobody wanting you, again, a non issue because I will always want you. Always and forever. And you’ve got a whole family who want you so much Tyler. We love you, yeah? It can be hard for you to appreciate that, I know, and if I have to remind you every single day in a dozen different ways then I will, because I love you.”  
“I,” he tried to start his sentence but the crying stole the words. “I w-want l-lo-love, like, l-like, like I h-had with J-Josh.”  
“I want you to find love as well, eventually, I don’t think you’re ready yet, but I want you to find romantic love one day because that’s one of the ultimate forms of happiness. And Tyler, I don’t want you to think you’ve dashed your chances just because you have scars-“  
“Who’s g-gonna w-wanna d-da-date thisss?”  
“An open minded, kind, accepting boy, the kind of boy who deserves someone amazing as my brave son. If someone is so shallow as to dismiss you because of scars, they won’t be supportive of your needs, and they won’t make a good boyfriend, and they won’t make you happy. You don’t need that kind of person in your life. The right man won’t judge you, yeah?”

“I just, I, I, I. I th-think y-you we-were ri-i-ight Mom.”  
“Probably.” She laughed a little, but sensitive to how overwhelmed he was. “When do you think I was right?”  
“At the h-h-hosp-i-tal, you, you s-said that m-my best d-days are be-hi-hind m-me.”  
“Shit, you heard?”  
“Yeh,”  
“Shit.” She repeated again whilst squeezing him so tight he felt like he was being constricted. “I am so sorry, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean any of it, shit Tyler, I’m so sorry baby. I thought you were still unconscious - not that that makes it okay of course. I didn’t mean it, and I shouldn’t have said it, and I’m sorry.”  
“S’true.”  
“It’s not true, not at all. I was petrified at the time, I think Momma might have some kind of PTSD or something, because seeing you bleed like that, it brought up a lot of really horrible memories of nearly losing you. It was really difficult Tyler, really scary, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I was overly emotional and rambling and speaking nonsense, and I don’t want you to take any of it seriously. I was overreacting because I was scared, and I’m sorry.”

Tyler didn’t say anything as she kissed his head.

“I’m so sorry. Yes, you had some really good days, especially with your new friends once you transferred high schools.” She meant Josh. “And I’m glad you have those memories, but there are so many more memories for you to make, and they’re all waiting for you in the future, you just have to get there.”

“I feel like it’s not e-even worth a-all this st-struggle.” Tyler admitted through broken squeaks.   
“It’s not going to be easy, but the best things never are.”  
“Bu-but it w-won’t be the b-best!”  
“You don’t know that baby.”  
“Pe-eople are mean, a-and cruel, and n-n-nob-b-body is going to g-give me a ch-chance!”  
“A chance to do what? I can be your advocate.”  
“Anything! Get a j-job, or a fr-friend, or a boy-f-friend!”  
“I think people are a lot more open minded than you fear Tyler.”

“I d-don’t want to be l-like this for-e-ever, just l-living at home - not even l-living! Just hi-hiding, and p-panicking, and rely-y-ying on you for e-everything! I don’t w-want to be f-f-fourty f-ive and a-alone and still n-need y-you to do e-everything for m-me.”  
“Baby, you’ve not even been home a week yet, don’t start making predictions for a quarter of a century away. We have plenty of time to work on this. And you know what Ty? If you’re 45 and still need to live at home and still need full support, that’s okay. You can live here for the rest of your life if you need and/or want to.”

“I feel like I’ve g-got no-nothing to l-l-look forw-ward to.”  
“There’s so much to look forward to. Every day you’re getting stronger, and braver, and more able. That means we can start doing more interesting and entertaining and rewarding things - at your pace of course.”   
“L-like wh-what?”  
“Oh, so many exciting things Tyler.” She was faking her smile. “I want to teach you how to cook and bake, so we can start making cupcakes and cookies and whatever else you want to do - we could do pizzas with home made dough tomorrow! And we can get you into so many other hobbies, gardening once spring comes, crafting, painting, maybe get a henna kit in? Scrapbooking, and a pen pal service, and home cinema nights, basketball maybe, crocheting, and music again. Wouldn’t it be nice to start the piano again? And your singing? And maybe once you’re more settled at home, we could find a choir for you to join-“

“Choir?”  
“You’ve got a beautiful voice Tyler, I want other people to experience it too, but it’s also a way of getting you used to being around people again, and maybe even form some friendships?”   
“I don’t, I, I, I can’t,”  
“Not yet, no, not yet, too soon. But there are a few different things we can do to start integrating you back into social environments when the time eventually comes. There’s group therapy sessions at the community centre every week, and I think there’s a local LGBT group who do events, gatherings, quite frequently. We’ll find you some friends, and maybe even a boyfriend, so don’t go worrying about being alone, alright? Plus you’ve already got the best of friends in your brothers and sister.”

“But it’s too soon to start thinking about that aspect of the future, for now you need to be focussed on the near future and more attainable goals. How about we write a list up on your whiteboard next door of things that you’d like to do, things you can look forward to, and we’ll work through them, okay?”  
“Okay.”

 

 

  
“Oh, hey kiddo,” Dad looked up and smiled at Tyler in the doorway. He was already tucked up on his side of the double bed, and Tyler felt a little guilty that he was having to sleep alone with Mom’s side so clearly empty, and he was in his pyjamas reading a book by the glowing yellow light of his side lamp.

“Hi,”  
“Come on come in, is Mom asleep already?”  
“Yeh,” Tyler nodded, his hands playing with each other as he took a few unnerved steps into the bedroom.   
“What’s up? Just need some company?”  
“I’m itchy.”  
“You’re what?”  
“Itchy.”  
“Itchy? What does that mean?”  
“My skin, it’s all, I’m all itchy.” Tyler squirmed in his body.   
“Alright.” He knew Dad didn’t understand. “Well why don’t we go in the bathroom and see if Mom’s got any creams, any, uh, any body moisturiser or something?”  
“Okay.” Tyler nodded again and hovered anxiously as Dad groaned his way out of bed then showed the way into the ensuite bathroom.

Immediately he grabbed a towel off the radiator drying rack and threw it over the closed toilet seat, then gestured for Tyler to sit. He didn’t want to especially, but he felt too uncomfortable and awkward refusing, so did.

“Okeydokey, moisturiser, where is Mom’s moisturiser?” Dad thought out loud whilst rummaging through various bottles before finally finding a yellow one that he decided might help. He flipped the cap open and squeezed a little of the white cream onto his finger, then held it out to Tyler. “Here, try a little, see if you like it.”  
“Um, uh, okay.” He touched Dad’s finger so he had a little of the cream too, then slowly started tracing a spiral onto the back of his left hand.

“Now how does that feel son? Does that make it less itchy?”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
“Good.” Dad smiled, he was proud of himself for finding a solution. “Here, you can have the bottle, use as much as you’d like.”  
“Thank you.” Tyler took it slowly from him, rotating it in his hands a few times before squirting some more into his palm that he then began to rub into his scarred and bumpy forearm.

“It’s nearly midnight.”  
“Oh. Do you want to sleep?” The younger whispered, looking up at him.   
“No no, I’ll stay with you as long as you need, s’just so you’re aware and we don’t accidentally wake up your siblings.”  
“Oh,” Tyler kept massaging his arm, over and over.

“Your mom, she said you might want to try using some scar removal creams?”   
“Maybe.”  
“I think it’s worth a shot, try and calm some of these down.” Dad was also staring at his arm and the deep purple and pink wounds that wrapped around his limb, distorting its shape and scaring off those who witnessed it. Tyler could barely look himself, a stranger to his own body.

“Are you still itchy?”  
“My arm,”  
“Your arm? It feels better?”  
“N-no, well, well yes, but my arm, my cut, it’s itchy. I think it might be infected Dad.”  
“Ah, that could be an issue. Did your mother change the dressing today?”  
“Yeh,”  
“And it was okay?”  
“Yeh,”  
“But you still think it’s infected?”  
“Yeh, I’m itchy,” Tyler winced as he pictured the bugs marching their way into his system, taking control and leaving him powerless. A slave.

“Tyler. Son, look at me. Does itchy mean something different? Does it mean anxious? Or, I don’t know, not clean? Not pure? Or something?”   
“I’m itchy Dad! My skin, it’s just, eugh! It’s itchy!”  
“Okay okay, calm; how about I take a look at that wound of yours, check for any signs of infection?”  
“It’s no use! It’s too late! You gotta take me to the hospital!”  
“Now now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, first let me see if there’s anything suspicious going on with it.”  
“But Dad!”  
“Tyler.” He was firmer, and so Tyler shied back into himself and bit his tongue to stop the words from spilling out further.

“Are you going to be okay for 20 seconds if I go and get a fresh dressing from your room to replace the one we’re gonna take off?”  
“Don’t, don’t wake Mom.”  
“I won’t kiddo,” Dad smiled fondly, then backed out of the bathroom and left Tyler to keep applying the moisturiser to his arms. It felt nice. It was cooling and the motions were repetitive and almost hypnotic, and Tyler was getting to know his skin for the first time since it had been ripped apart. When he was in the state of mind where he wanted to cut, needed to cut, he hadn’t been aware enough to see the damage he was truly doing. When he first started to notice, he didn’t want to believe. And so his arms were always hidden away under tube bandages or long sleeves, never to be seen, never to be believed, until he started exploring with the moisturiser over and over again.

It was a strange sensation, some parts of his arm were numb from nerve damage, others were sensitive where raw, some scars were flat and wide and others stuck out like thick worms made only of his cinched flesh. He was simultaneously intrigued and repulsed.

“Alrighty,” Dad waltzed back in with a sterile packaged dressing. “You okay?”  
“I think it’s infected.”  
“We’ll get to that in a second, I’m asking after your mental wellbeing. Are you feeling calm? Stable? Safe?” He didn’t have the same subtlety as Mom, but Tyler knew he cared and was trying to express that. Even though Tyler felt like little bugs were crawling over his skin, trying to break through and contaminate his bloodstream, he forced himself to engage and answer.

“I’m scared.”  
“You’re scared of what?”  
“The itching.”  
“I think it’s probably just your skin feeling a bit dry in this cold Ohioan weather, but don’t you worry, lil bit of that there moisturiser will help it settle down.”  
“S’not that.” He shook his head  
“The potential infection? Ty, Mom checked a few hours ago, and found nothing, if there is any infection then it’ll be in its early stages and quick to fix. Just a trip to the doctor’s office and few antibiotics. You’ll be absolutely fine, I promise. Scout’s honour.”  
“It’s not, it, it’s not that either,” Tyler looked anywhere but in his eyes as he tried to summon the courage to give life to the words that fluttered around his head.

“What is it son? You can tell me.” Dad crouched down in front of him patiently. “Or we can get Mom-“  
“No! No, not Mom, let her sleep.”  
“Okay, just a suggestion, but Tyler if you’re really not feeling so hot then your Momma would want to know, want to be there for you.”  
“But you’re here!”  
“Yes, yes I am, your dad’s here Ty.” He smiled fondly as Tyler tried to work on volume control, not wanting to blurt anything out again and disrupt his sleeping family. He’d done more than enough disruption already.

“The bugs,”  
“Bugs?”  
“Just, um, just listen. There were bugs,” Tyler whispered. “When I did the, um, the, the drugs, a-and when I was really sick, in, uh, in Cygnet, there were bugs. They always burrowed into my, uh, my skin, and I had to scratch them out or they’d get in my blood and go to my brain, and, uh, and mess with my thoughts.”  
“Right.”  
“They used to be all over me all the time, but, but, uh, but they went away, but now I’m scared I can f-feel them coming back.”

“Can you see the bugs now?”  
“N-no,”  
“Can you hear them?”  
“No,”  
“So you only feel them?”  
“Y-Yeah,”  
“Okay,” Dad soaked in all the information and formulated a plan whilst Tyler did his best not to cry. He’d been vulnerable, opened up, and he felt fragile.

“And these little bugs of yours, to stop them infiltrating your mind, you what? You scratch them out?”  
“Try to.” He nodded.   
“But you’re telling me this because you don’t want me to let you scratch yourself?”   
“Because I know they’re not real, Dad, I know they’re part of my psychosis, a-and,” tears began swell. “And I’m scared, D-Dad, I’m sc-scared of the b-bugs and re-relapse and, and, and I d-don’t w-want to go back to h-hospi-t-t-tal,”

Unlike Mom, Dad didn’t rush to scoop him up in a tight hug when Tyler started crying, instead he remained patiently crouched and let him get the worst of the quivering gulps out of the way before trying to reinitiate conversation, this time with a supportive hand on Tyler’s knee.

“You’ve done the right thing. You have done the exact right thing by telling me as soon as you noticed, and I’m very appreciative that you trust me. We’re gonna sort this out, okay? A little itch doesn’t mean you’re about to fall back down the rabbit hole again.”  
“Wh-wh-what sh-should I d-do?”  
“I think I’m going to trim your nails in a second, so that any scratching you do perform isn’t going to hurt you or your chances of staying at home. We’re also going to give you your PRN antipsychotics to see if they help calm down the ideas, and we’ll go downstairs and grab your weighted blanket too. That way if you do feel a little niggle of any pesky bug, the weight of it can counteract the itchiness, yeah? As well as keeping you grounded and reminding you that they’re not real, you don’t need to be afraid.”  
“O-okay,”  
“And I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. You can sleep in the double with your old man, or in your bed, and I’ll supervise overnight to make sure that you’re absolutely fine.”  
“You’ve g-got work t-tom-morrow.”   
“Not my priority.”  
“But D-Dad,”  
“Nope, not my priority. You come first.”

“I’m s-sorry Dad.”  
“What are you apologising for?” He frowned.   
“Th-that it’s happening ag-gain, the b-bugs are back, and, and it’s h-happening a-again.”  
“It feels like they’re back because you’re anxious Ty, and you’re worn out, and that’s because it’s been an absolute mammoth of a week. It’s been a huge challenge, and you’ve had to work so hard, and every now and then that leads to nasty side effects like this, but it doesn’t take away from your phenomenal success.”

“I’m sorry you h-had to fi-i-ind me, i-in the b-b-bathroom.” Tyler hiccuped.   
“It’s fine.”  
“I-it’ss n-not f-fine,”  
“No, you’re right, it’s not fine. There was a lot of blood, and I thought you were gone, so no, it’s not fine. Fine’s the wrong word. What it is, Tyler, is pardonable. You had an incident, which is not your fault, and I don’t and won’t hold that against you. Will it stay in my mind for a lil while? Probably. Will I let that come between us? Of course not Tyler, you’re my son, you’re my boy.”

“It’s tough, I know.” Dad carried on whilst Tyler tried to calm down his crying. “It’s tough,”  
“I, uh, I, e-everyone, I tr-traum-matised everyo-one.”  
“Our family went through a difficult time, there’s no denying that, but flowers don’t grow without a little rain. That’s one of your mom’s sayings.” He smiled jokingly, then sobered again. “Something beautiful will come from this for all of us. We’ve all had our minds and hearts opened to new things, learnt patience, and empathy, and kindness. Maybe your siblings might grow up to be psychologists, or work with addictions, or be inspired to help people in other ways. Yes, we’ve all been changed by the events of the last few years, but not necessarily for the worse.”

“Zack,” Tyler managed to whisper, almost on top of his erratic breathing.   
“He’s accidentally dug himself into a bit of a hole, hasn’t he? And I think he needs some time to figure out how he’s gonna climb back out of it. He’ll come around though, he will.”  
“How can you kn-know that?”   
“Because that’s what families are all about Tyler. Unconditional love. Arguing and fighting like cats and dogs, and then, at the end of the day, bringing it in again. Knowing no matter what, these people have your back and will always love you. That’s what family means, yeah?”  
“Yeah,”

“How about we change that dressing and clip your nails, then we’ll see about taking some of your antipsychotic medication? And theeeen maybe we’ll think about actually getting some sleep tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which is your favourite of the 4 singles so far? I can’t stop listening to My Blood


	10. Dr Wakefield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor trigger warning for discussion of self harm

Monday morning brought back the chaos of the school run. Tyler had slept, not deeply, but he’d slept, which was better than he was expecting. Dad had sat with him for a long time, he couldn’t put an exact figure on how long, but it had been hours and hours. Every time he stirred, even for a few seconds, Dad was still sat on the desk chair next to him with a gentle hush to send him back to sleep.

By the time Tyler did wake up properly, his mom was up and Dad had disappeared. It was clear that he’d updated her because she had proceeded to praise him for finding help when he was distressed and had hugged him for a long while and asked after his itching, which had thankfully subsided. He was proud of himself too, knowing he’d done the right thing, but more than anything he was tired. Every day contained a crying fit over something or other, and he felt like he was counting down the minutes until the next one would wash over him.

Mom was downstairs, preparing breakfast for Jay and Maddy, who were both running around their rooms trying to get dressed and pack their stuff after both hitting snooze far too many times. Jay was only 11 and had a fair excuse to not be able to fully organise himself, but Maddy had been going to school for a decade and was definitely fulfilling the stereotype of a teenager. Tyler wanted to help but knew he’d only get in the way, and so sat on the edge of his made bed and played with his newly cut fingernails.

“Hey you,” Dad poked his head round the door.   
“Hi,”  
“You feeling a little hotter this morning?”  
“Um, uh, lukewarm?”  
“Hmm?” He just frowned with confusion.   
“S’a, uh, it, it was a joke, but don’t worry, just a dumb joke. You asked if I’m feeling hotter, and, and I said lukewarm, you know, like not super hot? Yeah. But it was dumb, forget it, sorry.”  
“Oh, hahaha,” his laugh was fake and the embarrassment was already cringe inducing. “Well, I just had a nice shave, and I was wondering whether you wanted one too? You got a bit of a scruff going on there, and if you wanna grow it out then that’s cool, but I’m more than happy to get rid of it for you if you’d like?”  
“Could you?”  
“Sure thing, no worries, follow me.” The smile was more genuine and Tyler hovered slightly behind him as they went back into the ensuite bathroom he’d had his small breakdown in only a few hours ago.

Again Tyler sat on the toilet seat, this time taking a towel himself to supply a little cushioning, whilst Dad rinsed his hands under the running tap.

“I take it you weren’t allowed to shave at Cygnet?”  
“No,” Tyler watched as he rubbed shaving cream between his hands.   
“So how did you manage to fend off a beard? This might be a little cold by the way,”  
“S’fine,” He said as his Dad started applying it to his face. “And it grows kinda patchy anyway, so I can’t really get a full beard yet, but a barber came in every week and shaved our heads and faces.”  
“Oh, cool.” Dad was concentrating on getting the foam everywhere, but seemed genuine in his interest as once again he washed his hands then picked up the razor and brought it to Tyler cheek, holding him in place with once loose guiding finger.

“Was he cute?” He asked a moment later whilst rinsing the blade between strokes.   
“He was 70 and looked like Santa.”  
“Oh, so he was in need of a shave? That’s ironic.”  
“Yep.” Tyler smiled, watching Dad wash the blade in the water again.

“Maddy taught me that one - cute. Apparently it’s not just for little kittens anymore, it’s for beautiful girls and handsome boys too.” Dad had a look of precision as he etched off another strip of prickly gruff.   
“If she says so. I’m hardly in the loop either.”  
“She’ll have to start giving you lessons as well as me.”  
“Maybe,”

“What’s the plan today then? What are you and Mom gonna get up to?”  
“My, uh, my schedule is written up next door if you wanna look.”  
“Can you summarise for me?”  
“Lots of resting, making dinner with Mom for everyone, and my appointment with Dr Wakefield.”  
“Oh yes, that’s today, I forgot.” Dad smiled. “Can you move this part of your face so it’s flat and I don’t accidentally nick you? Great,” he ran the razor down the side of his mouth with concentration, before rinsing it again so Tyler could speak.   
“He’s coming after lunch,”

“Charles, he’s great. He was on your early intervention team after your hallucination at Cody’s party.”  
“Can’t have been that great then. Intervention didn’t work.” Tyler teased jokingly.   
“It did work Tyler, you didn’t have another episode after Cody’s until a really traumatic event that would have destabilised anyone. He did a great job with you then, and he’ll do a great job with you now, I’m sure of it.”  
“Hopefully.”

“You’ve got your bruise right here from Zack, I’m gonna try and shave over it so you don’t have a random patch, but if it hurts then you tell me, deal?”  
“Deal.” Tyler agreed whilst discreetly squeezing his hands into fists with his nails plunged into his palms. He was expecting rows of sharp sensations, but had forgotten that all his nails had been snipped away and he could bring himself no pain as a distraction. He supposed it was healthier that way. Meanwhile Dad carefully glided the razor over the injury, and, although sensitive, it wasn’t painful. The bruise was the only remaining sign of the punch, with his lips and mouth healing quickly, but Tyler knew his Mom’s heart still sank whenever she saw it.

“How was that?”  
“It was okay actually.”  
“Good.” Dad seemed satisfied, washing off the shaving foam from the razor in the sink. “Are you nervous? About speaking to Dr Wakefield?”  
“Kinda.”  
“That’s understandable. Just remember that he’s there to help you, and your mom will be floating around the house somewhere if you need her. It’s not meant to be a huge challenge, so if it’s too much then you can walk away and take a breather - we don’t want you getting overwhelmed and that leading to something regrettable. Just keep things in perspective. We want you to push yourself and talk to him, but we don’t want you to push yourself too far and get hurt. If you try your best then that’s all we can ask for, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”

“Right,” Dad wiped his face with a washcloth and smiled, then lifted up a blue bottle. “You want some of this balm stuff that Mom bought me?”   
“Okay,”  
“It smells nice, orange and grapefruit with a woody base note of cedar and vetiver.” He read off the front, then squirted some of the lotion out and rubbed it onto Tyler’s face with care. “Might sting your bruise a bit, sorry,”  
“No no, it’s okay,” Tyler finished massaging it in for himself, then smiled up at his father who was clearing away.

“Thank you Dad,”  
“No problemo.”  
“No, I’m serious, thank you.” Tyler waited until he had his full attention. “For last night, talking to me, and for stemming the bleed on Friday, and for all the other times you’ve saved me, and for looking after Mom whilst this has all been happening, and just everything. Mom does the day to day stuff, my daily care, but I know that you play a huge role in making this work, making it financially possible for her to leave her job to be with me, and giving her the support to cope, and just being the glue behind the scenes. I appreciate it more than you can know Dad.”  
“I’ll always be here kid, always. That’s what dads are supposed to do Ty - look after their family no matter what, and one day you’ll become a father yourself and once that lil baby, or child if you adopt older, is in your arms you’ll understand that they’re the most important thing in the universe and there’s nothing you won’t do to protect them.”

 

 

  
“Hi Tyler, I’m Dr Charles Wakefield, we met a few years ago but you might not remember me, I’m a psychologist.” An old man walked into the kitchen with Tyler’s mom hovering by his side. He was dressed in a three piece suit including a burgundy pocket square that matched his tie, and had balding white hair and a warm smile. He looked expensive.

“Hi,” Tyler squeaked from his place at the kitchen table, hands recoiling into the sleeves of his hoodie.   
“Your mom has invited me round for a chat, just to see whether maybe you’d like for us to work on some therapy together, some CBT, at some point in the future. This isn’t an evaluation, it isn’t an introductory session, nothing like that, just an informal chat. I won’t take any notes, nothing. Does that sound okay?”  
“Uh, y-yeh, yeah,” he nodded and the gentleman smiled again.

“Why don’t I get us some drinks? Dr Wakefield, can I get you anything?” Mom suggested.   
“A coffee would be wonderful thank you Kelly,”  
“Fraid my husband only has instant, it is that alright?”  
“Perfectly alright.” He nodded as she went across to the sink and filled the kettle up.   
“Ty baby? You want a hot chocolate? Or a peppermint tea?”  
“No thanks,” Tyler shook his head a little anxiously.

“Can I join you Tyler?” Dr Wakefield gestured to the chair adjacent to him.   
“O-okay, yeah,”  
“Thank you,” again his heartfelt smile filled his face as he lowered himself down onto the seat. “You’ve got a beautiful home Kelly,”  
“Thank you, we needed to do a bit of polishing up after Tyler’s tricky year, then my husband and I just decided we’d redecorate the entire kitchen whilst we had our painting clothes out.”  
“It looks marvellous,”

As the kettle heated up it made a loud noise that cut off any hopes of conversation, so they were stuck in an awkward silence. Dr Wakefield took the opportunity to slip off his blazer and hang it on the back of his chair, and Mom got out the mugs and her favourite teabags and all the other bits and pieces she needed, and Tyler played with his fingernails. They had ways to busy themselves, and he didn’t.

“How do you take your coffee Dr Wakefield?”  
“Splash of milk, no sugar,”   
“Coming right up,” she smiled too. Tyler felt like he should push out a smile, but couldn’t.

“I like that hoodie of yours Tyler, it looks very soft,” Dr Wakefield pinched at his waistcoat, encouraging Tyler to look down at his own outfit.   
“Thank you, it, uh, it is soft,”  
“You like the softer clothes then? More cosy?”  
“Yeh,” he whispered.   
“The kit they have you dressed in over at Cygnet, that polyester anti-ligature gear, it’s hardly comfortable.”  
“You know it?”  
“Yeah,” again with the smile. “I have an office at Campbell psychiatric facility, I split my time half and half between there and my private practice, and with my job at Campbell comes quite a lot of transition work with patients at Cygnet. In fact I probably would have taken your case if you’d gone through that discharge pathway. But because I do a large amount of preparing people to move to a new unit, either Cygnet to Campbell or Campbell to Cygnet, I’ve spent far too much time over there, including getting familiar with those silly outfits.”

“They, uh, they can be, um, be helpful sometimes? They don’t rip, so you can’t, you can’t tie the, the, the thread round your n-neck.”  
“Yeah that’s right, we fancy smancy professionals call that anti-ligature technology. And you found that helpful? Having that as a backup in case things slipped through your control?”  
“Yeh, yeh I needed it sometimes.” Tyler admitted shyly.   
“Well I’m glad you got along with them. Lot of my patients would rather never look at polyester again.”  
“I wouldn’t, um, I wouldn’t go as far as to say I got on with them,” he sniffed a lighthearted laugh as Dr Wakefield cracked a grin, just as Mom came across with a cup of coffee and tea for the grownups and a glass of water for Tyler.

“Here you go,”  
“Great, thank you,” Dr Wakefield wrapped his hand the mug and pulled the coaster a little closer to him. Mom sat down next to Tyler and squeezed his hand gently, then tucked her chair a little closer to him.

“How are you finding discharge? Must be a little strange being home after all this time,” he asked casually.   
“Yeah, strange,” Tyler admitted with a shrug.   
“He’s doing really well Dr,” Mom told him proudly.   
“Not really well,”  
“Yes Ty, you are baby,”  
“I, I have panic attacks everyday, and I relapsed,”  
“With?”  
“Psychosis and self harm.” Tyler couldn’t stop confessing to the man, who didn’t even flinch.

“You make sure to practice safe cutting techniques and aftercare?”  
“Safe cutting?” Mom frowned.   
“I had no control, I couldn’t, and then the ambulance and the people at the hospital took care of me.”   
“Right, okay.”  
“What’s safe cutting?” Mom asked again.   
“It’s a program they teach at Cygnet to a select few patients they deem in need. They appreciate that sometimes being clean isn’t an option in the outside world for some, and some need to use it to stop themselves doing something worse. Rather than being blind to that, they teach these chosen patients how to be safe, precautionary plans to put in place before starting to self injure, what medications thin blood or inhibit clotting and therefore aren’t compatible, how to sterilise blades, the symptoms of shock and how to manage that, how to clean up afterwards to avoid infection, that kind of thing. It’s a good program.”

“Nobody asked for my consent or approval, I’d much rather he hadn’t participated.”  
“It was good Mom,”   
“Sweetheart, I don’t want anyone teaching you how to hurt yourself.”  
“I already knew! But now, n-now I know first aid,” Tyler tried his best to explain to her.   
“It’s got a good evidence base to it, reduced the numbers of infections and ER trips in their outpatients dramatically compared to patients who were evaluated as the same risk but did not participate in the program.”

“I suppose there’s not much I can do about it now you’ve taken the classes, hey?” Mom sighed with an upset shrug. “And if you think they’ve helped then that can only be a good thing.”  
“It’s just a shame you couldn’t put your skills into practice when you relapsed.” Dr Wakefield didn’t sound condescending, or disappointed, or upset. He sounded genuine.   
“I, um, I was hallucinating. If I had any awareness, I, I would have, I would have used my skills.” Tyler told him. “Actually I wouldn’t have harmed at all, I don’t need to do it anymore, I’m better, I, I, I, I was 8 months clean!”  
“8 months? Wow Tyler, that’s superb, congratulations.”  
“Thank you,” Tyler looked at his lap, then up at him, then back down at his lap.

“What’s the best thing you’ve done since getting discharged?” He sipped his coffee.   
“Umm,” he thought about it for a while, because he hadn’t really done anything except cry and be comforted. “I saw my siblings.”  
“Did you miss them?”  
“Constantly. Every hour of every day.” Tyler didn’t have to hesitate as he nodded with a power of something almost like confidence.

“I’m not a young man Tyler, I just turned 63 last month, and I’ve got a twin brother called Paul. We lived together for our entire childhoods, we went to the same university and were only 4 dorms apart, we shared a house with school friends, then we bought a house together after we got our degrees. He met his wife and they moved round the corner, then I met my wife and we moved the next street over, and it went on and on like that for decades, never living more than 5 minutes from each other. Then this past Easter he retired and so did his wife, and together they’ve moved to Hawaii. 62 and a half years together, and now he’s off living his dream, enjoying his days in the sun with the love of his life, and I haven’t forgiven him yet.” The older man chuckled, and Tyler smiled ever so slightly.

“Nearly 7 months now, s’too long. I’m flying over on December 17th with my wife and kids and baby grandson who’s 2 and a half, and we’re having a big family Christmas out there on the beach.”  
“Sounds beautiful,” Mom said.   
“If it’s anything like the endless stream of photos he puts on Facebook, it will be.” Dr Wakefield spoke with such a natural flow and lightness that Tyler envied. “What I’m trying to say, Tyler, is that I have a special bond with my sibling too, and I understand to some extent how difficult it can be to be apart from them. Now me, I can hop on the phone to him and let him know all about my day, talk his ear off about the amazing salad I had for lunch, or gossip from the neighbourhood, or describe something cute my grandson did. I know you didn’t have that ease of communication, and you were apart much longer, under much more difficult circumstances. And because of that, I’m guessing your reunion was a lot more complicated than mine will be next month.”

“My brother hit me.”  
“That’s the mark on your face I’m guessing?”  
“Yeh,” Tyler reached up and stroked his slowly healing cheek delicately.   
“Which brother? Jay? Or Zack?”  
“You know their names??”  
“I do.” He nodded in response to the obvious question. “We did several sessions together a few years ago, and we spoke about your relationships with your siblings, and I made notes. I skimmed over the file before I came round. I hope that’s okay.”  
“That’s okay, isn’t it angel?” Mom encouraged him softly.   
“Yeh,” Tyler tried his best to remember those early appointments, but couldn’t. “And Zack, it was Zack.”

“He’s away at college now.” Mom told him.   
“Oh is he? Where did he go?”  
“University of Michigan, full ride for his basketball, majoring in business management.”  
“Full ride? You must be very proud.”  
“Very,” She said, but noticed Tyler’s lack of enthusiasm and immediately dropped her tone. “But this isn’t about him. I’m very proud of all my children, they’ve all come a long way in their own personal ways, all overcome personal hurdles, and made me very happy, but now this is Tyler’s time.”

“Do you wanna talk about it Tyler? Your brother’s assault?”  
“It wasn’t an assault, he just, he, he got wound up,” Tyler defended him, Mom finding his hand once more. “I forgave him already.”  
“Did he explain his actions to you at all?”  
“I, um, I haven’t actually seen him since.”   
“It was all a bit chaotic. It was the day Tyler relapsed, and Chris and I were in the hospital with him. We didn’t have the opportunity to clean up after the incident, and his sister discovered the mess and called Zack, who rushed back and in the process, like Ty said, got a bit wound up. It all bubbled over once Tyler came home, Zack reacted horribly, but Chris took him outside and he spent the night with a friend and then went back to school. Now we’re just giving the situation some cooling off time.”  
“Wise,” he agreed, sipping his coffee.

“Mom didn’t tell him I was home.” Tyler felt like Dr Wakefield would figure that out somehow, so saved him the time whilst also being able to vent his slight annoyance at how his existence outside the unit had been kept a secret from his loved ones. Maybe if the doctor could come up with a good way of wording why that was a bad choice, Tyler would be able to steal those words and rework them to help his case for Josh to be told too.

“When I help patients with discharge plans, I usually give similar advice. Don’t make it into some big event straight away, give yourself time to acclimatise, to settle. You don’t want half the neighbourhood swarming round to pinch your cheeks and tell you how nice it is to see you. It can be a little overwhelming to pile on top of an already enormous change.”  
“But they’re my brother and boyfriend.”  
“Boyfriend?” Dr Wakefield was a little surprised, and so was Tyler that the word had slipped out of his mouth.   
“Ex.”  
“Josh.” Mom clarified with a sigh.

“I remember Josh, you lived together.” The psychologist said a moment later.   
“This can be difficult for Tyler, we’re trying to teach him the importance of staying away from triggering topics, and this is arguably his biggest trigger.”  
“Okay, my apologies, let’s move on.”  
“But I want to talk about him!”  
“Sweetheart, no.” Mom put her foot down whilst squeezing his hand.

“Should we talk about why you think Zack got worked up? Or should we switch up the conversation entirely?” Dr Wakefield asked his view.   
“I already know why, he’s worried about me and scared and angry about some of the stuff I did to him and the family when I was sick all the time, and he didn’t have a chance to think about what he was going to do or say, and he just got overwhelmed. I understand that better than most.” Tyler replied.   
“Seems like you’ve thought about it a lot already.”  
“I have.”

“So what’s the next step? Are you going to speak to him?”  
“It’s, uh, it’s really up to Mom I guess,” he turned to her expectantly.   
“We’re just taking each day as it comes. Zack will be busy all week with school, but maybe at the weekend he’ll come down again, I’m not sure. No rush.”  
“Yeah, plus that gives him more time to calm down and think about what he wants to say,” the doctor was in agreement.   
“Exactly.”

“How do you feel about that Tyler?”  
“Looking forward to it,”  
“You are?” Mom checked.   
“Yeah,” he answered honestly. “Anxious, obviously, but I just want to get to know my brother again, have a friend again.”  
“It’s understandable that you’re anxious, but you have a really good mindset towards this Tyler. Things are complicated, however the difficulty will be worth it in the end because you’ll get to have a proper reunion with your brother, and then a proper relationship.”  
“I’d like that,” he fiddled with his cuffs.

“What else are you looking forward to?” Dr Wakefield asked, and Tyler could hear his Mom draw sharp breath. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d been sobbing in her arms that he didn’t have anything to look forward to, any reason to go on, and now he had to answer a professional on the topic.

“Getting better so I can do normal things again, like go outside, and watch funny movies, and make friends.”  
“Have you been outside since coming home?”  
“I, um, we went out in the garden together, and I’ve been on our swing, and we went to the ER. Other than that, no.”  
“And that’s something you’d like to do?”  
“Yeh,”  
“Well let’s do it, up and down this street, it’ll take 5 minutes tops. How does that sound?” He proposed and Tyler momentarily froze, then turned to his mom for help.

“You don’t have to baby, you don’t have to.” She stroked his face. “You don’t have to.”  
“Of course you don’t - it’s not my intention to scare you, or force you, or upset you. If you’re not ready then that’s absolutely fine, we’ll say no more on the matter, but if it’s a challenge you wish to push yourself with then it would be my pleasure to assist you in that.”  
“Mom,”  
“What do you think baby?”  
“Wh-what if, what if I see someone?”  
“You mean hallucinate?”  
“N-no, some-someone I kn-know, I don’t wanna see anyone yet,”  
“Sweetheart, it’s a Monday afternoon, everybody will be at school or at work, and nobody walks through this housing area anyway.”  
“You promise?”  
“I can’t promise 100%, but I can promise 95%.”

“Tyler, if we do decide to go, and we do see someone you know, what’s going to happen? Why are you so afraid?” Dr Wakefield asked.   
“Lots, um, lots of people know about my breakdown. They used to call the house, didn’t they Mom?”  
“Yes sweetie, they did,”  
“Surely that’s a sign they care then Tyler? They were concerned about you, wanted to make sure you were okay.”  
“They called cos I intimidated them,”  
“He went missing for 8 days, and Chris, my husband, had hundreds of poster things made up and we posted them in letter boxes all around town, with a photo and some details explaining he wasn’t well and to call us if they ever saw him distressed. It was the police’s idea actually. Anyway, Zack found him in the woods eventually, but the posters worked on other occasions because people kept them, and we were able to find him a lot quicker and the police didn’t have to get involved even half as often, but unfortunately it does mean a lot of people around here have his picture and associate him with the drug and alcohol issues he’s now overcoming.”

Tyler didn’t know half of that. He honestly thought they called because they were friends who saw his paranoid rants on Facebook. He didn’t remember the 8 days. He didn’t remember the drugs. He didn’t remember the posters. He didn’t remember any of it.

“People know he’s getting better. My other children, they talk to their friends about how brave their big brother is and how he’s recovering, and their friends tell their families. And I quite often request prayers at church, so my church community all know he’s doing well. Plus of course Chris and I have spoken to our friends, and I guess a lot of people who don’t know us but still looked out for our Tyler thanks to the posters must have worked out that he’s doing better now that he’s not out there anymore. I suppose it’s just a shame that we can’t post letters to everyone with an update on just how well he’s doing!”

“I don’t want to go out.”  
“Okay.” Dr Wakefield understood.   
“Can I go up?” He whispered to his mom.   
“To your room?”  
“Y-Yeh,”  
“Okay, take a 5 to 10 minute breather, relax, then try and come back down please Ty. You don’t have to keep chatting if you don’t want, but it would be nice for you to at least try and say goodbye to Dr Wakefield, and maybe discuss whether you’d like to have him round for coffee again sometime.” She was saying but the words were washing over him as he trembled, making standing up much harder than usual. He was shaking and on the point of tears for a reason he couldn’t even pinpoint exactly, and as he hurried to leave the room, he heard Dr Wakefield ask whether his mom needed to go after him. She did.

 

 

  
The more information he had and the more familiar he became with the idea of the entire neighbourhood possessing a photo of him and the family’s address and contact details, the more okay with it he felt. He still didn’t like it, he didn’t like it one bit, but he could see the logic behind the plan. It disturbed some paranoid thoughts that had come across through some brief tears, and Tyler knew would creep back into his mind in the middle of a sleepless night, but he was able to push them aside with the help of his mom’s hugs.

He hadn’t managed to say goodbye, but still found pride in the fact that his mom had left him on his own to show Dr Wakefield out and he hadn’t hurt himself within those 3 minutes. That was an achievement considering his mindset.

After a nap he was feeling a little better, and his mom was a lot more gentle with him. There was no more talk of the bad times, or of Zack, or Josh, or going outside. Instead the conversation was contained to safe subjects, and carefully monitored, with lots of praise and lots of breaks to give him the chance to process everything and reduce the risk of getting overwhelmed.

His siblings and father had come home, making the situation a tad more precarious, however there seemed to be a silent understanding that Tyler was fragile and needed not to be poked. And so they kept their distance, and kept the noise down, and it was much appreciated by both mother and son.

“Is that okay?” Tyler recoiled his floury hands with the rolling pin they held and showed Mom the circle of pizza dough he had shaped. It was his fourth base, and he knew he should have the hang of it by now, but his anxious nature insisted he check.   
“Perfect,” she smiled, coming along with a baking tray.   
“Should, should I start another?”  
“I think 4 is enough thank you darling, Dad and I will share one then you three kiddos can have one each.” Mom explained whilst lifting the pizza base onto the tray and flattening out the small patches formed by the transfer.

“A-are, are you dieting?”  
“Not properly, I just know Dad and I will actually eat the salad and fill up on that, whereas I know you youngsters would never put lettuce before pizza.” She laughed. “Do you want to put the sauce on this one whilst I carry on grating the cheese?”   
“Yeh,” Tyler nodded softly and took the saucepan from her. They’d done everything that they could at home, including making their own tomato sauce, and Tyler ladled a generous amount into the centre of the base, then used the bottom of the tool to spread it to the edges, leaving a few centimetres of crust allowance.

“Is that okay?”  
“Amazing.” Mom reassured him warmly. “Is there a lot of sauce left?”  
“Uh, I guess? Yeh,”  
“Alright, we’ll freeze it and use it as pasta sauce another day.”  
“D-do, do, um, do you want, uh, want me to put it in a T-Tupperware box?”  
“That would be amazing baby! They’re in there, in that cupboard by your left foot, can you find any?” She asked as he dove into the cupboard, immediately stressed out about the cluttered chaos of miscellaneous lids and stacked pots inside of one another, ascending in size. He wasn’t sure what was the right one, but found what he believed was a matching pair of top and bottom and so went with that.

“Will this work?”  
“Like a dream,” Mom nodded. “Just spoon it all in, if there’s still more then we get another box, no fuss.”  
“O-okay,” he whispered in reply, first going across to the sink and washing out the container. It didn’t look visually dirty, but he knew that didn’t really mean anything in the world of hygiene.   
“Sweetheart you don’t need to properly wash it, just a rinse, I’ll reboil the sauce when I use it and kill off all the bugs I promise.” She told him once she heart him squirt the soap in. “Tyler,”  
“I started now.”  
“You don’t need to scrub it darling, come on,”  
“I’ll just finish,” Tyler dismissed her whilst continuing to scrub with the scouring sponge.   
“Baby,”  
“Please Mom, I need to do this.”   
“30 more seconds.” She allowed him, knowing that once the idea of something being dangerous, especially to his family, entered Tyler’s mind, nothing would feel okay until it was dealt with.

He knew the plastic box wasn’t dangerous, he knew Mom would cook the food and the germs would die, he knew his family weren’t really at risk. And yet the thought of putting tomato sauce into a dirty box made him feel physically unwell.

“Alright lovebug, enough,” Mom stopped what she was doing and carefully but without hesitation plied the scouring sponge from his shaking hand and pulled the plastic box from the other. He took a small step back and watched closely as she washed off all the remaining bubbles, then shut off the water and dried it down with two paper towels.

“Can you fill it still? Or do you need a sit down for a minute?”  
“I’m okay,”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,” he nodded as she kissed him on the temple, then gave him the troublesome box back.

With a little sigh Tyler went back to his ladle and got back to work, spooning scoop after scoop, slow and controlled. Mom had finished grating a big bowl of cheddar and so watched with a small proud smile as he got the task done.

“Perfect, good job Ty,” she clicked the lid on for him the slid it into the fridge. “Right, cheese and toppings. Dad and I will have Margherita, Jay will have bacon and sausage and pepperoni piled high, not sure about Maddy, what would you like?”  
“Um, uh,”  
“You can have any of things I said, or maybe some olives? Or sweetcorn? Or mushrooms? Or any other vegetables?”  
“I don’t, uh, I don’t know,”  
“We can only put toppings on half?”   
“I think, uh, I think just plain?”  
“Margherita like your Momma, good choice.” Another sweet smile.

“I’ll go, uh, I’ll go ask Maddy.”  
“You want to ask her?” Mom was understandably surprised.   
“Yeh, is, is that okay?”  
“Of course that’s okay, but are you sure you feel up to that sweetie? Momma can do it if you want?”  
“I, um, I just, uh, I want, I want a good co-conversation starter. Carry on tr-trying to break the ice.”   
“There’s no ice sweetie, it’s just the tricky business of trying to rebuild the relationship, but I promise there’s no ice between you. You’re right though, this would be a really good way to have a little talk, so if it sounds alright to you then I’ll carry on with these other pizzas and give you two a bit of time to talk. Does that sound like an okay plan?”  
“Yeh,” Tyler nodded, tugging on his fingers.   
“Tyler, love, look me in the eyes and reassure me that this feels okay,”  
“It feels okay,” he did as instructed, and with concern still on her face, she gave a permitting nod.

With breath hovering on his healing lips, Tyler scuttled out of the kitchen, rolling down his hoodie sleeves at long last to give his fingers something to cling to and to give his scars somewhere to hide behind. He understood long sleeves would make the process of creating pizza hard, but having his scars constantly staring at him made it hard too. But he had managed, and that was what counted in the end.

He also counted the steps as he went up them. 13. Like most staircases. Most staircases were therefore bad, since they didn’t contain the safe multiple of 4, however Tyler wasn’t bothered by that. He wasn’t bothered as he took an extra three steps on the spot at the top to make it up to 16, 4 times 4. He wasn’t bothered.

Maddy’s room had her name on the door in pretty calligraphy on a pierce of framed canvas, most likely done by a street artist or something of that sort, and Tyler stared at it whilst knocking four times.

“Yeh?? What??”  
“It’s Tyler,”  
“Oh, hi Ty, come in,” her voice suddenly sounded friendlier as he pushed down on the handle and found her in her little safe space, recently decorated and somehow still fairly tidy. Very unlike her.

“You okay?”  
“Yeh, uh, I, uh, I’m making pizza, with Mom, uh, what, what do you want on yours?”  
“Hmm, good question,” she hummed, closing her laptop and sitting up on her bed. There was room next to her for Tyler to fit, but he hadn’t been invited to and didn’t know whether he should. Instead he stayed hovering by the door, waiting for her to say the next word.

“Have we got any pepperoni?”  
“I, I think so?”  
“Cool, if not then I’ll go Margherita.”  
“O-okay,” Tyler nodded, then didn’t leave.

“You sure you’re alright?”  
“Yeh, long, uh, long day,”  
“Got time to talk about it? Or are you needed in the kitchen?”  
“I’ve got a l-little bit of time.”  
“Come.” She patted the mattress next to her with a smile and Tyler obeyed.

“So what have you been up to today?”  
“Dr Wakefield came round.”  
“Oh, is he going to be your new therapist?”  
“I think so.”  
“Was he nice?”  
“Yeh, just tiring,” Tyler rubbed his eye with a balled fist.

“I did therapy, well I did counselling, I guess they’re kinda the same thing, but I did that every week for like 4 months after you got admitted, and it’s strange because you’re just sat down talking for most of an hour, and yet it’s absolutely exhausting.”  
“It’s emotionally draining,” he understood what she was talking about perfectly.   
“Exactly.”

“Most things are emotionally draining for me, I, I, it’s uh, I get emotionally invested in everything, not by choice, it, it just happens,” Tyler spoke softly, but she listened patiently. “Especially now I’m home, it’s, uh, like, um, like everything is a first impression? I h-have to make a good impression, on you, a-and Jay, and Mom and Dad, sh-show you I’m better, because I am better, I am, it just, uh, sometimes it doesn’t look like that, so I try extra hard to be the b-best I can. I, uh, even with small things, like, like m-making dinner, I over invest, and tell myself it’s a big deal, like, uh, like if I mess it up then you g-guys won’t l-like me.”

Maddy didn’t say anything straight away, and the room was filled with a suffocating silence. For a second Tyler considered talking some more, rambling more, but thankfully his sister swooped in at the last second.

“I’ve always liked you Tyler, you’re my big brother. You, uh, yeah you made my life hard, there’s no denying that you did make things hard for a little while, but it was never because you wanted to, it was because your life was really crap. Utter crap.”  
“It wasn’t that bad,”  
“Tyler, your best friend died, your boyfriend went missing and you thought he was dead too, you were seeing things that weren’t real - your life fell apart.”  
“I didn’t help things though, with the drugs and the drinking,”  
“You were just trying to find a coping mechanism, and then addiction kicked in. It wasn’t your fault.” She told him but he didn’t forgive himself that easily.

“We all understand, me and Jay and Mom and Dad and even Zack, we do understand that you never chose to go through everything you’re going through, and because of that you don’t need to convince us of anything Tyler. You already have our love and admiration and pride. You don’t need to do anything extra to prove that you’re getting better, even being able to come and sit with me is miles better than you were last year.”  
“Mmm,”

“You’re a good person Tyler-“  
“That’s not true.” He cut her off.   
“Yes it is, you don’t need to work so hard to try and apologise or make up for the past, you need to concentrate on getting better and doing things for you.”  
“I’m not a good person.”  
“You’re a good person who had bad things happen to you.”  
“I’m not good! I hurt people!”  
“You have an illness, a mental health condition, that sometimes hurts people but mostly hurts you Tyler, it hurts you more than it’s ever hurt any of us. The person most deserving of sympathy is you.” Maddy argued. “The person who needs love, and patience, and kindness and comfort and relief is you. Everyone would agree with me. You don’t need to be focussing on other people, you need to be prioritising yourself.”

“I feel like I don’t deserve it.” Tyler whispered.   
“Why not?”  
“Because I did a bad thing, it was my fault,”  
“What bad thing?”  
“Debby.” He felt himself tearing up as he admitted the dark secret.   
“She was in a car accident, there was a drunk driver, it wasn’t your fault Tyler.”  
“You don’t understand, it’s me, I’m, I’m, I don’t know, I’m cursed! Bad things happen to people when I’m around! Bad things happen because of me, she died because she got close to me.”  
“Tyler,” Maddy’s hand appeared on his back comfortingly as she sighed, “I think you’re having one of your delusions, okay?”  
“It’s not a delusion!” Tyler cried out. “It’s true! Everyone near me gets hurt, all of you guys, Debby, Josh! All of you! Anyone I’ve ever loved! All your lives have been ruined! I’m why!”

“Should we go see Mom Ty?” Her voice was too sweet, too fake.

“It’s not a delusion, I swear,” tears were leaking down his cheeks.   
“Sometimes you struggle with awareness of them, don’t you?” She wiped his face with her sleeve. “Hey?”  
“If you don’t believe me just look at the patterns - all of you, ruined because of m-me! My f-family are all tr-traumatised and in th-the-ra-rapy, Josh’s l-li-life is de-destro-yed, Debby’s d-dead!”  
“And none of that is because of you Tyler.” Maddy said firmly. “Besides, Josh’s life isn’t destroyed, it’s just different.”  
“I c-came a-along, made him d-doubt his fai-faith, tu-turned h-him bi, m-made him ch-che-eat on his g-girlf-friend, g-got him thr-thrown out, th-then k-killed h-his b-best fr-friend!”  
“No, that’s not what happened. You helped him realise he was being abused Tyler, you saved him from abusive parents, and then you showed him a loving and supportive side to humanity where he felt comfortable and safe enough to come to terms with his sexuality. You did nothing but love him.”  
“My l-love is t-toxic.”

“I feel like I’m making it worse Tyler,” Maddy sighed again and the guilt made his chest feel tighter. “Do you need some meds or something?”  
“H-hold my h-hands,”  
“Course,” she took them in hers gently, stroking with her thumbs.   
“H-hold them tight! I, I, I, I want to h-hurt mys-self! S-st-stop m-me!”  
“Oh, um, okay - MOM!”

 

  
Maddy had somehow been successful in preventing Tyler from self harming, along with the help of their parents restraining him with considerably more force and experience. His hysteria had tipped back into psychosis once again, this time with Debby paying a visit to scream his sins to a reception of desperate attempts to scratch all his skin off.

Dad took the lead in the restraint, pinning Tyler’s arms down by his side then eventually transitioning to a proper 4 point restraint face down on the floor where he cried and screamed for close to half an hour before wearing himself out and descending into exhausted sobbing into the pillow his mom had provided to stop his head banging. Eventually he was released and escorted downstairs by his parents, and taken to the couch to receive PRN medication and cuddles for the rest of the night.

It was the aftercare that Cygnet never provided. He’d have his risk deescalated, then he’d be left to cry himself to sleep. And yet in his mom’s arms, he found he was crying even more than those lonely nights in the hospital. He couldn’t detach, he couldn’t hide from his actions, he couldn’t escape the reality and was forced to see the consequences in the form of his mom’s occasional tears dripping down onto his face. At Cygnet he was just another kid having another meltdown, at home he meant something and it was too much.

“Such a brave boy,” Mom nuzzled closer again with her careful whisper.

At some point it had got dark. The sun had set and nobody had a spare moment to flick on a light switch, but Tyler’s eyes felt so puffy and swollen that he was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to see anyway. Thick salty lashes glued his lids closed and a heaviness filled his whole body. Even though he still had background urges to dig deep into his flesh, his arms were lead and trapped under blankets and Mom’s embrace.

Hospital had been suggested twice. Once mid restraint, with Dad insisting it was time to call an ambulance and Mom saying to wait a little longer, just a little longer, and then again just a few moments after settling on the couch, this time from his mom’s mouth. She wasn’t insistent, instead just offering Tyler the choice if he felt safer being under the care of professionals, but Tyler knew that ER wouldn’t treat him well and a psych unit wouldn’t let him go. So he declined. He was on his final warning, another episode would mean an automatic 911 call and therefore another hospitalisation and another section and another year locked up away from everyone he cared about.

Maybe it was selfish to stay home, to continue inflicting his curse on those around him, but Tyler knew he didn’t have it in him to endure another round of Cygnet. It would break him. His only option was to stay at home and so he had no choice but to fight the urges and fight the voices and fight the hysterics with all the strength he could muster from his fatigued and fumbling body.

A small blue-tinged light filled the room, then Dad’s husky voice followed.

“Text from your mom Kel: Jay and Maddy are both in her bed hugging each other. They seem better,”  
“Say thank you to her for me,”

Grandma had been drafted in to escort the crying siblings from the scene, and Tyler hadn’t yet been able to work out who his parents were protecting. Were they trying to calm the surroundings down to help him settle? Or were they looking out for the younger two, sending them to a healthier environment away from the hexed one? Or were they trying to making things a little easier for themselves, only needing to care for one sobbing child rather than 3? Tyler knew it wasn’t the last one, it wasn’t like them, he just didn’t know whether they truly deemed him important enough to focus their attention on.

“Baby, Momma’s sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t want to disrupt you but I need to use the bathroom. Is that okay?” Mom asked softly and nervously, and Tyler’s gut reaction was to burst back into wailing cries, not wanting her to leave him. No matter how hard he tried to rationalise and tell himself that she’d only be a few metres away and a few minutes, he couldn’t find the bravery to tell her okay.

“Sit with me son, Dad’ll stay with you,” he stood up from his guarding position on the floor in front of them (and in the way of the direct route to the door in case he bolted), and Tyler felt his mom move too, automatically making him cling on tighter.   
“2 minutes, that’s all I’ll be,”  
“Mom, don’t go,” hoarse cracks haunted his plea.   
“She’s not going, she’s nipping to the bathroom then she’s coming straight back,” Dad told him calmly.   
“Mom,”  
“Tyler, I can distract you, I can restrain you, I can hold you, whatever you need, I can sub in for the next 2 minutes.” He sat next to them on the couch as Mom continued to try and wriggle free from under him. Tyler was getting more and more distressed, not wanting her to go, but she was determined and so Dad was working hard to steal his attention from her.

“Look at me, hey? Look here champ,” Dad made eye contact as Mom slipped away, then wrapped his arms around Tyler and bundled him close, clutching him to his chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,”  
“N-no,”   
“Think of this morning, you and me, my ensuite. We had such a nice time together, didn’t we? Just a bit of father-son time, something we’re gonna start doing more often. Can you remember any of the smells in the aftershave balm we used?”  
“M-M-Mom,”  
“She’s being as quick as she can - let’s try and remember the smell, yeah? I think it had orange, aaand, what’s the name of the fruit that look like a big orange but the inside is red? Do you know?”  
“I d-d-don’t w-want to th-think a-about it D-Dad!”  
“Alright kiddo, alright, the answer was grapefruit but it’s just a silly distraction,” he stroked Tyler’s sweaty hair back.   
“I-it m-makes me th-think of sha-shav-ving, wh-wh-which makes me think o-of r-razor b-blades!”  
“Okay, that’s okay, we don’t have to think about that anymore Ty, let’s try thinking about herbivores for each letter of the alphabet instead, can we do that?”

“Too much! I-it’s t-too m-much!” Tyler writhed.   
“What’s too much? Too much physical contact?”  
“Shav-ving then t-talk-king to a s-s-stranger then c-cooking th-then M-M-Ma-Maddy,”  
“That’s all too much for you hey?”  
“T-too m-much!”  
“I hear you bud, I hear you, we’ll scale it back from now on I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so pumped for Tyler’s interview with Zane Lowe, I listen to him all the time and having him talk to tøp is gonna be awesome. Stryker was my favourite for first interview but Zane is gonna do such a good job I can tell :D


	11. Reduction

And scale it back they did.

Once Tyler’s parents looked at the week with the understanding that his tolerance was next to none, the frequency of his breakdowns made perfect sense. He had constantly been the camel’s back just awaiting its final straw, and it barely took anything for him to come toppling down. The tears made sense, the insomnia made sense, the self harm made sense, the psychotic visits from Josh and Debby made sense, even the itchy bugs made sense. He was at his limit and the slightest raise of his anxiety levels pushed him over the edge. Water was constantly lapping at his chin and their additional activities and expectations were drowning him.

In response they completely stripped back his schedule, Dr Wakefield was put on hold, everything non essential was put on hold, all he was expected to do was take medication, sleep, eat, and occasionally wash. His siblings were sent to their grandparents’ with bags sufficient to last them weeks if it was necessary - which it was proving so - the house was searched then searched and searched again for any potential tool that could be used for self harm, and Tyler was monitored and supervised constantly.

Any hopes of a reunion with Zack were sidelined for the foreseeable future - in fact any irregularity in his schedule was avoided at all costs, including sacrificing his 21st birthday half way through his third week home. Celebrating would disrupt and unsettle him, and so the 1st of December was treated like any other day. He knew that was hard for his mother, but it was the right decision.

Tyler would wake up, take medication, eat breakfast, rest on the couch, take medication, eat lunch, rest on the couch, do a jigsaw puzzle with Mom for 30 minutes, take an afternoon nap in bed, wake up, rest on the couch, take medication, eat dinner, night time routine, take medication, sleep. Repeat.

It was dull, but it was also the calmest Tyler had been in almost 2 and a half years, and his body had been craving the opportunity to recuperate more than he had ever truly been aware. He slept 12 hours regularly but it wasn’t unusual to creep closer to 14, plus his nap, plus any dozing through his resting time.

Mom kept a baby monitor in his room to listen to him snore and occasionally cry.

He got worse in some regards. He was significantly more compulsive and far more anxious towards variation and change, but the panic attacks had mostly subdued and tears were rare whilst psychosis seemed like a far off concern. It was impossible to have everything, and he was pleased with his selection of demons. Mom didn’t stop his compulsions so they simply became a part of his routine too, and the routine meant change was rarely an issue.

Weekends were an issue.

Dad would be at home for times that he shouldn’t be according to the schedule, and on Saturdays he rectified that by spending the day with Maddy and Jay, but on Sundays Mom got her off-shift to spend with them and so Dad was in charge, and those were the days Tyler slipped up the most. Sundays were the days you’d find him sitting in the bottom of his closet, or hiding in the bath behind the shower curtain, or cowering out in the snow in the back garden. Those were the days he went off schedule and things went wrong, and his palms would be littered with indented half moons and his breath a little too quick for his liking.

He knew it upset his dad that he couldn’t look after him as well as his mom, but Tyler did his best to behave and stay calm and on track, it just seemed to slip beyond his grasp as the Sunday went on and it nearly always ended with him crying in his mom’s arms when she finally came home from her day of relative freedom. If he could have more self control, he would.

At least the end of Sunday brought the promise of Monday, the beginning of a beautiful streak of reliably repetitive days. He’d get to sleep, and rest, and build jigsaws, without the looming sensation of inevitable chaos associated with Sundays. He tracked his week by Sundays. He tracked the passing of time by Sundays. He did not like Sundays.

That was not to say he did not like his father. His father helped put him to bed each night, he shaved him, and watched him brush his teeth, and made sure he got into his pyjamas okay, and he’d talk to him, and sometimes read him a story if he had nothing to talk about, and then hand over to Mom who helped settle and soothe him till he drifted off. The 45 minute routine gave Mom the chance to have a cup of tea and relax without sole responsibility, and it gave Dad the opportunity to be involved and have a relationship with his son, and it gave Tyler the possibility to test himself without his guardian angel hovering over him.

“Oh, a sneaky sky piece was in my lot,” Mom said lightheartedly whilst handing the small blue tile with its complete lack of distinguishing feature to Tyler for him to put in the appropriate pile.

He discovered he wasn’t the only one with a routine, others had habits too. Maddy would always call during her lunch break and Mom would always sit on the third stair from the bottom whilst she spoke to her, in perfect position for Tyler to eavesdrop from the couch he was resting on. The words he heard made him feel guilty, and gave him the impression that Maddy was putting on a brave face and doing her best to be okay, but Jay was struggling with the situation. He didn’t understand why he had to live with grandma and why he couldn’t see Mom and why she couldn’t promise they would have a big family Christmas together.

Tyler was the reason why.

Long term he didn’t know the plan, nobody did. They couldn’t go on like this forever, Tyler dominating and controlling everyone’s lives, and yet challenge and change was what had caused so many panics in his first week home and, having now experienced 3 weeks without a serious panic attack (except on Sundays), Tyler was in no rush to return to being their slave again.

A month free of Cygnet and he wasn’t look back, but simultaneously wasn’t looking forward either.

“5 more minutes,” Mom checked her watched to help keep them to schedule, and Tyler nodded. “Should I start with that sky pile? Or leave it till tomorrow?”  
“Today,”  
“Okay baby,” she scooped up all the sorted pieces and moved them closer to her space at the table.

The image they’d been working on for the last 3 days was a thousand piece cottage scene, with difficult sections of green front lawn and blue cloudless sky that they’d left till the end. Together they’d done the edges, Tyler had done the house, and Mom had done all the flowers and the path and trees, and so far it was looking pretty good. They managed on average 2 one thousand piece puzzles a week, although Mom worked a lot faster than Tyler since she didn’t have to go through all the tapping rituals he did to keep his family safe.

They both knew it was OCD, but Tyler couldn’t rationalise his fears of something more happening to his loved ones, meaning Mom forcing him to stop would not only cause tension between them but also hysterics on Tyler’s part that would highly likely escalate to something worse. To prevent that, she let him tap away. Besides, he wasn’t hurting anyone by touching all the tiles 4 times, so Mom let him carry out the compulsions whenever he needed to.

“I think we can have this finished by tomorrow, what do you think?”  
“Maybe,” Tyler whispered whilst pressing a piece down.   
“And then we get to pick a new one - do you have a preference or any idea what we should go for next?”  
“Uh, not, not really,”  
“We’ve still got that really nice sunset one we could do? Or maybe it’s nearly time to whip out the Christmas scenes? I’ve got lots of those up in the attic, we’ll have to send Dad up,” Mom was soft spoken as she made slow progress with the tricky sky. “I know I’ve definitely got a nativity scene one and an ice rink in the park, and a huge snowball fight, and lots of others I can’t remember. We’ll have to have a look through them together, see if any of them tickle your fancy.”   
“Yeah,”

“When is Christmas?” Tyler asked a moment later.   
“December 25th, and today’s the 10th,”  
“Oh,”  
“But you don’t need to worry about it, yeah? Remember what we said - we’re not going to make you do anything that’s going to upset you or frighten you. The only change for you might be Granny coming to supervise you for an hour or two whilst Dad and I open presents with your siblings. We can even arrange for it to be whilst you’re having your nap, so that way you don’t even notice a difference.”  
“Yeah,” Tyler sighed deeply, not knowing what to think.

Of course he felt horrifically guilty for ruining everyone’s Christmas, but simultaneously he knew his limits and a big family get together was far beyond them.

“Right, that’s half an hour jigsaw time done,” she looked at her watch again with a smile. “Should we go do your chart then head up to bed so you can have your afternoon sleep?”  
“Okay,” he agreed, not that it was much of a question. It was part of his schedule and so it would happen. He carefully and precisely organised his section of loose jigsaw pieces so that he’d be able to come back to them the following day without any stress, then took his mother’s extended hand and let her lead the way to the living room at a gentle pace.

The far wall had undergone a slight makeover alongside all the other adjustments made to help Tyler cope better with discharge. It was covered in A1 sheets of paper divided up into the grids, each with their own headings. Everything he did had a grid, whether it be taking medication, eating, having his nap, or even just waking up, and every time he completed the task he earned himself another sticker.

Mom kept a plastic wallet on the coffee table filled with sheets after sheets of stickers, and she took one out and gave it to Tyler to peruse. He’s already used half a dozen off that page, but there were still plenty to choose from, and he couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly as he looked at them all. He loved stickers.

The original idea his mom had was that a row of stickers would earn him a prize - fish if he remembered correctly, but she had soon learnt that the stickers were reward enough for him and so that extra element was dropped. Now he just got the joy of seeing the grids fill up.

“Which one are you going to go for?”  
“Um, this one I think.” He pointed to a purple and green cartoon monster with one eye and five legs with the words: Monster Effort! written underneath in bubble letters.   
“Awesome,” Mom smiled and peeled it off for him, then stuck it down on the grid for jigsaw next to the one he had earned the previous day. It wasn’t as full up as the ones for medication or eating, but doing something non essential was difficult and so Tyler was most proud of the stickers he had earned for that category. With a small smile still on his face, Mom walked back to be by his side and pressed a delicate kiss to his temple.

“I’m so proud of you Tyler,”

 

 

  
Tyler took his nap in his hoodie and underwear everyday, with his sweatpants folded neatly on his bedside table next to him. For a few days he had gone to the effort of changing into pyjamas, but then he got into the habit of wearing his pyjamas to dinner too and that made him feel embarrassed and only seemed to draw attention to the fact he was housebound and unprepared for the world.

After 4 days without getting changed out of pyjamas, he made himself the rule that he would try and get dressed every single day. That way he could tell himself he was putting effort in and trying his best to be his best, presenting himself well, and also it stopped his resting at night from bleeding in with his resting during the day and turning him into a zombie without variation in his life, just a blur of rest and sleep. New clothes each morning meant a new tone, a freshness, and the start of a new day for him to seize, regardless of any previous incidents.

His hoodie collection had grown from the initial wardrobe Mom had acquired, and he now had three new hoodies: a deep blue tie dye, a black OHIO jumper in funky stretchy pointy font, and a mustard. The mustard was his favourite. It was snuggly and soft and the hood was on the bigger side so it covered lots of his face when he needed to hide from the world for a minute.

When he woke up he found the sleeves had slid their way up his forearms with his movements, so he quickly pulled them down to make long paws that even covered the scars on his hands - another bonus of it being oversized. He yawned twice, then was about to whisper into the baby monitor that he was awake but instead heard a muffled voice outside his door.

“I’m sorry Josh, really, I am, I just think we need to focus on us this year, our little family, I’m sorry,”

Mom, and she sounded like she was crying.

“I know sweetheart, but someone will invite you I’m sure - I know you said they’re busy but please try asking your roommates if they’ve got a spare seat at their tables?”

She was obviously on the phone, and talking to Tyler’s ex, but he couldn’t work out what about.

“I’m sorry angel, it’s just been such a difficult year for us as a family and I feel like it’s in our best interest to keep things personal and intimate this year.”

Tyler hated hearing his mom cry, but had to admit that he silently rolled out of bed and crept across his room towards her out of curiosity rather than concern. He got as close to the door as he could and pressed his ear to the small gap, listening closely for any more clues.

“Josh, Josh no, don’t be silly, no of course it’s not like that. Sweetheart I love you, I do, but you have to try to understand that visiting Tyler needs to be my priority. He’s my son Josh, he’s my baby and he needs me, and I have to put him first.”

That had been the theme of the month, putting Tyler before anyone else, and it was what triggered him to open the door and tiptoe out to find her. He wanted to tell her that she could prioritise Josh in whatever the situation they were talking about was. Yes, maybe it would mess up his schedule, but he would sacrifice anything for Josh.

She was sat in the middle of the stairs, and when she heard his footsteps she looked up in what could only be described as panic. Immediately she put her finger to her lips to urge him to be silent, then she wiped her tear stained face with the same hand and stood up, climbing the stairs to be with him on the top landing, still with the phone up by her ear.

“Go put your pants on, I’ll be right there,” she mouthed without a sound, and begrudgingly Tyler went back into his room and picked up his sweats to climb into, still listening out eagerly.

“Josh, darling, I truly am sorry. How about you go and talk to Drew and Jesse, I know you said you think they have plans, but I think it’s worth checking. Check with the Ryans. Maybe check with some other friends from school, then I’ll call you again later this evening and we’ll confirm a plan for you, okay? Yeah, alright, I love you too darling, bye, bye.”

As soon as she hung up she came into Tyler’s room with a tearful sigh, sitting on his unmade bed. He sat next to her.

“How much did you hear?”  
“Not much.”  
“What did you hear?”  
“Just that you were apologising a lot to Josh, and that you were prioritising me, and you want something to be intimate because it’s been a bad year.”  
“Are you satisfied with just knowing that much? Are you going to let me get away with just that?” She sniffed and Tyler was appreciative that she was even asking rather than ruling with an iron fist.

“I don’t, um, you, you, I don’t have to know everything, I just, uh, is he okay? Are you okay? Did I mess something up again?”  
“No of course not baby, no, you haven’t done anything wrong, don’t even think that.” Mom said determinedly, then wiped more tears. “We, uh, we’re just trying to make plans for Josh’s Christmas.”  
“Wh-what do you mean?”  
“Well, with the exception of the year he was in Indonesia, he’s spent all his Christmases since getting outed to his parents with us.”  
“Last year, when I was really bad in the hospital, he still came? To family Christmas?”  
“Yeh. He didn’t spend the whole day with, he went out to a soup kitchen for most of it, including when Dad and I came to visit you, but he slept over Christmas Eve and he did gifts and Christmas dinner with us.”  
“Oh,”

“And obviously, you know, this year is complicated.”  
“He still doesn’t know I’m discharged, does he?”  
“No, he thinks you’re still at Cygnet, and I tried to use the excuse that you’d earned a big chunk of visit time so I’d decided I was going to make a picnic Christmas dinner that we could eat in the visiting room together. I don’t know, it sounds silly now, but I was trying to make it believable.”  
“That’s believable, that’s something you’d do for me Mom.” Tyler nodded honestly, but she just shrugged.

“He’s just finding it difficult to accept, that’s all.”  
“Is he insisting he comes?”  
“No, that’s not Josh’s style at all, no, in fact he was very brave and said he understood it straight away when I told him, but he couldn’t help getting a bit upset. He’s got nowhere to go, and uh, and the idea of him spending Christmas alone, it made us both a bit tearful.” She faked a smile with wet glistening eyes.   
“He’s got nowhere? No one?”  
“Well he’s asking his roommates, but they both have quite big plans already in place, and I suggested he asked Debby’s parents if they would have him, although that might be a long shot.”  
“They live opposite the Duns.”  
“It might be too dangerous, and he also hasn’t spoken to them since she passed, so it might not really be a viable option.”  
“So if his roommates say no, then what?”  
“Then I guess he’ll go to the soup kitchen and have a rewarding day volunteering.”

“It’s not fair, he, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, he doesn’t deserve to be alone.”  
“I agree.”  
“Mom you have to invite him here, you have to.”  
“I can’t Tyler,”  
“You have to! I’ll even stay hidden up here if you want to keep pretending I’m at Cygnet, please.”  
“Angel, no. We agreed that we don’t think you can manage Christmas with your brothers and sister, we can’t now turn that on its head and have them all round plus Josh. That’s just not realistic - in fact it’s dangerous Tyler.”

“Please.”  
“No.”

“You, you, y-you used to hang out all the time, didn’t you? When I wasn’t here.”  
“Not all the time, but yeah, he occasionally used to come round for dinner during the week and we’d go out on the weekends together, that kind of thing.”  
“You went from all of that, to now not seeing him for over a month because you’re looking after me, and not inviting him to Christmas. He’s going to think you hate him.”  
“He might not know you’re home, but he understands that you’re an important part of this family and he’s probably filled in the gaps and realised that you’re needing a bit more support at the moment. He’s a clever boy, he’ll have linked the dots.”

Mom’s tears were slowing, but Tyler’s were welling. Josh was alone.

“Why can’t we just tell him Mom?”  
“Oh baby, you know why,” she reached up and brushed back his messy sleep hair. It was growing back quick, which Tyler was relieved about because it gave him something to fiddle with rather than having to pick at his skin when he felt shaky, but it was also a distraction. “If he knows you’re here, he won’t be able to stop himself from coming to see you, and that’s going to destabilise you and potentially undo all the amazing work you’ve done and land you back in hospital. We can’t risk that.”  
“So we have to risk his life instead??”

“What do you mean baby? Nobody’s life is at risk.” Mom frowned.   
“We both know that’s not true.” Tyler sniffed as his first tear trickled from his lashes to his jaw.   
“Tyler, sweetheart, explain for Momma?”   
“If this goes wrong for me, if, if, uh, if I have another bad turn, I, you know, there’s a chance I might not survive it.”  
“That’s why we have to make absolutely sure that we take care of you-“  
“And in the process neglect Josh!” He cried out, and she sighed.

“I’ve taken good care of him Tyler, I’ve loved him like my own. I gave him a home, I gave him a family. Baby, after his father attacked you, and you had your head injury, I still found time to make him feel welcomed and safe and cared about even whilst you were undergoing intensive physical therapy, complete rehabilitation. That was difficult for me. The Momma bird in me wanted to be with you constantly, to watch you doing your steps with the parallel bars and support you in your cognitive assessments and just be with you all the time, because when you were in the coma I thought I had lost you Ty. I needed to be with you, and yet I still found time in my day to be a mom to him too. Hours and hours of time I could have been at the brain injury clinic with you, I was helping him, talking to him, calming him down. I let him live with us for all those months. When he went missing I was in touch with the missing persons department every single day for weeks until they had uniformed officers come to my door to insist I stop wasting police time. When he came back to Columbus after his travels, you were incredibly unwell and I was stressed to the point of illness myself, and I still took the time to explain the situation to him and help him understand and guide him through everything, including his grief over Debby and the difficulties he was having being back here surrounded by memories of her. At the same time as I had to put my baby, my first born baby, into a psychiatric hospital, I was also helping him get into law school. I found him an apartment, and roommates, and I gave him money to live off and pay for school with. I arranged support groups for him to attend. Still, to this day, I help him with his papers, I make sure he eats right, I take him clothes shopping because otherwise he wears his outfits so often then get holes in them and he doesn’t notice. I reward him when he does well on his tests, I take him for haircuts because he doesn’t recognise the difference between when his curls are adorably messy and messy messy, and I always have a spare phone charger for him when his Apple one breaks in the middle of the night and the stores are all shut.” Mom was crying as she went on and on to a reception of Tyler’s sobs.

“And you know what? No, no I can’t have him round for Christmas dinner, this year it just can’t happen, but that does not mean I’m neglecting him Tyler. I love him. I have only known the boy for four years, just four short years, and he is a son to me, and in many ways a best friend. He understands how I feel, he feels the same things sometimes, and when I help him and comfort him, occasionally I say things that also help and comfort me inadvertently. Talking out loud to him is good for us both. Right now I think I need him in my life just as much as he needs me. We need each other. I promise you Tyler, I promise you, I am not trying to get rid of him, I’m not trying to cut off all ties, I’m not using your discharge as an excuse to step back from my role in his life. I love my role in his life, and I love his role in mine. I love him, and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to him,”  
“You p-p-pr-pro-om-mise?”  
“I promise,” she nodded, stroking his cheek lovingly then squeezing their foreheads together for a brief moment of unity.

“I know you’re scared. I know you love him. I’m the exact same. But you know what Ty? Nobody’s life is at risk, because I’m Super Momma,” Mom whispered tearfully and Tyler let out a single chuckle through his sobs. “I’m Super Momma, and I look after all my babies, biological or otherwise, and I promise you that no harm will come to him.”

“I, I, I, I, I,”  
“Breathe,” she reminded him, guiding him with her gentle hand gestures how long he should suck air in and then exhale afterwards.   
“I’vvve b-bee-een s-so sc-sc-scared. He, he, he used t-to h-hurt hims-s-self,”  
“Josh did?” Mom somehow kept her voice steady as he nodded frantically. “He told me too sweetheart. With his parents, right? And the cellar? After they hit him with cane or the belt, if he didn’t think they’d hit him hard enough then he’d carry on punishing himself after they left and locked him in.”  
“Y-y-y-y-eah,” Tyler was hyperventilating and she pulled him against her chest, hugging him close but not so tight to further restrict his breathing. One hand cupped his head to her bosom calmly and the other rubbed deep circles into his back over and over in a soothing manner.

“You’re not the only one who knows. That piece of information, it’s not your burden to carry. It’s not your responsibility to deal with. He told me about a year ago, and ever since then I’ve been regularly checking to see whether he’s been having any urges to hurt himself again, and sometimes he does get little waves of thoughts that want him to do it, but he never does.”  
“N-Ne-ever?”  
“Never. Not since he left the Dun household, not even in Indonesia, not once. I occasionally do random scar and injury checks, like I did with you when you were harming as a teen, but I’ve never found anything so it’s more for my piece of mind. He’s called me once because he felt like he really needed to do something, but we met up, and I made him run round the park running track 5 times, so 5 kilometres, then he came and stayed the night here and he was safe the whole time. Now he runs semi regularly, and it’s been maybe four or five months since he’s last had any thoughts about harming - and I do honestly believe he would tell me if that changed.”

“B-b-u-u-u-u-ut-t,”  
“Tyler, poppet, if you want me to understand you then you really need to work on this breathing, okay? I know it’s a difficult topic, and you’re logically upset, and I’m not expecting you to speak in perfect English, but you do need to try and breathe deeply or else you’re going to make yourself pass out.” Mom stopped him, and he understood why, but couldn’t do anything about it. “Remember to breathe in, okay? Slower if you can, no gasps, just nice long breaths. Can you hold for a 2 count? 1, 2. Good, and again. 1, 2. Nice, one more time babe. 1 and 2. Much better. In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth. See, doesn’t that feel better already?”  
“Yeh,” he gulped as she cuddled him close, pecking the top of his head.

“Alright, sorry sweetheart, what were you going to say?”   
“What, uh, um, this, uh, this month you’ve b-been with m-me, n-not him, w-what if he’s re-rel-a-apsed?”  
“I asked him on that call you overheard the end of and I believe him when he told me he’s been okay in that regard.”   
“The Ch-Chr-rist-mas n-news could tr-trigger him.” Tyler hated the thought that Josh was a few miles away and hurting.   
“He’s not hurt himself in 3 years, he’s vulnerable but he’s not quite that fragile I don’t think. The type of harming he did was religious punishing for sins - he’s not sinned, he hasn’t done anything worthy of punishment, and he is incredibly strong. I think he’ll be okay Tyler. But nonetheless, when I call him this evening to check how his plans are shaping up, I’ll ask him about any urges, okay?”

“Go see him,”  
“Huh?”  
“L-Later, go see h-him.”  
“Oh darling, it’s a really sweet offer, but we need to take extra special care of you today I think. We’re already a little off timetable for your hour of resting downstairs whilst I make dinner - I don’t want to slide any further away from your routine. This has been your first big cry on a weekday since we started on this new refined schedule and I think it’s absolutely essential that we get back on track to prevent this sliding any further.” She told him, and Tyler said nothing in response.

“I know it’s not a nice thing to talk about, I know you were really scared, but hopefully it’s given you a little bit of reassurance that Josh is not quite as at risk as you feared. Remember, all those suicides of his that you hallucinated - that wasn’t him, he’s never attempted and he’s never expressed anything suggesting he’s even considered it, and he’s been very open with me. And that nugget of information that you’ve kept close to your chest and that’s no doubt been terrifying you for so long, about his self injuring in the past, that’s something that Momma’s been helping him with and he’s made a lot of progress, so hopefully that’s a huge weight off your shoulders to know that it’s being managed, yeah? Momma’s looking after him. I hope you have a better appreciation of the lengths I’ll go to when I say I’m looking out for him - it’s not half an eye just to keep you satisfied, it’s my love as a mother figure for him as a son-like individual in my life. I do everything I possibly can for him, and I mean that.” Mom spoke softly but with occasional cracks in her voice as she rocked him ever so slightly.

“I know you’re worried about him, but what you were saying earlier, about lives being at risk? You don’t need to be concerned about Josh’s life, it is well protected. What we do need to focus on is protecting you, and one way we can do that is through your schedule, yeah? It’s been working really well, you’ve been doing really well.”  
“I w-w-won’t re-relax, won’t s-settle, u-unless I know he’s s-sa-safe.”  
“And Tyler, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. He is safe.”  
“He w-was cr-crying,”  
“And you are sobbing.” She responded immediately, and he couldn’t instantly work out whether maybe she was right and maybe her leaving to be with Josh would be too much for him, maybe he would spiral, and things would get out of hand and he’d be back in Cygnet before dusk. Or maybe it would be his concern for Josh that would have him back behind clinic doors. The road to recovery was littered with pitfalls that would have him end up back in hospital, and it was exhausting.

“He will call me. If he’s a risk to himself, he will call me. I trust him.”  
“Y-yeh?”  
“Absolutely.” Mom nodded with a confidence that Tyler wanted to believe. “And I’m going to call him when you’re doing your bedtime routine with Dad, then when I come in and give you your goodnight hug, I’ll let you know his plans for Christmas and how he is.”  
“And if he n-needs you, y-you’ll go to h-him.”  
“I will definitely make sure he’s safe, but you need me here Tyler, and right now the stats are saying you’re more at risk. You need me, so I’ll be here.”

“I, I sleep 8 till 8, th-that’s, that’s half a d-day Mom, can’t, can’t, can’t you g-give Josh one hour?”  
“Once you’re asleep?”  
“Yeh! I, I, I never stir, and the ni-nightmares have st-stopped, and, and, and I’m okay M-Mom.”  
“But will you manage to fall asleep if you know I’ll be leaving for a while?”  
“I’ll sleep b-better kno-knowing Josh is s-safe with you,” Tyler hiccuped as Mom took a moment to contemplate the situation.

“Should we send Dad to Josh’s apartment? Once he’s finished putting you to bed? Because he loves Josh too.”  
“But he-he’s not the S-Super Momma,” Tyler tried to make a joke and she laughed but sobered quickly as she shushed him lovingly.   
“How about we make a deal. If we go downstairs and you manage to do your hour of resting and mindfulness on the couch whilst I cook our spaghetti meatballs, and then you have your meds and we get through dinner and your bedtime routine with Dad, if we can get through all of that without anymore panicking or crying or any further escalations, then, and only then, I’ll consider popping over to Josh’s place once you’re asleep.”

“S-so, so if I m-mess up, Josh, Josh s-s-suffers? He’s p-pu-unished?!”  
“No no no, poppet, no. I’m only setting those rules because if you have a bad afternoon then it won’t be safe for me to leave you.”  
“I’ll be safe!!”  
“Angel-“  
“Please M-Mom! N-N-New deal, you pr-promise to see J-Josh, I, I’ll p-promise to stay s-safe,”  
“And if I decide I can’t go round tonight, what, you’ll hurt yourself?”  
“M-May-maybe,”  
“No. No Tyler. No. That is not something you’re allowed to threaten people with, and if you think that’s okay then maybe we need to revisit hospitalisation as a possibility-“  
“Stop, STOP!” Tyler cried out, grabbing her attention.

“It’s a-all going wrong, this conversation, it’s g-going wrong,” he was panicking but at least she was listening. “I d-don’t want to h-hurt my-myself, I’m n-not th-threatening a-anyone, I know tha-at’s wrong, I just, argh, I just want Josh to be okay Mom. I need him to be okay.”  
“Alright baby, alright, deep breaths.” Her voice was warm again as she rubbed the circles deep into his back. “I’ll go and see him if you’re soundly asleep and your father is okay with minding you.”  
“E-even if I have another p-panic attack?”  
“As long as you’re calm enough to sleep,” she nodded and he breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, curling closer into her sweet smelling chest with tears and snot coating his face.

“It won’t be like this forever Ty, Momma promises we’ll tell him you’re home soon. You and your successes won’t have to be a secret forever.”  
“Soon, s-soon means?”  
“Soon means as soon as we are in agreement that you’re ready and well enough to cope with the challenge. I don’t know whether we’re talking weeks or months, but I do know that he is going to be so proud of you Tyler, so proud. Even after all this time, he cares about you so much baby.”

“Now, how about we clean you up, get you a big bottle of water to fend off a post-cry headache, maybe take some PRN if you think you need some help to calm down, then get you comfy on the sofa for a scheduled hour of quiet rest.”  
“Sounds g-good.” Tyler whimpered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left after this! And I’ve decided to wait a week until posting it, so it will most probably be up Friday 14th, but hopefully it will be worth the wait... it’s a long one!


	12. Christmas Day

Over the next two weeks, Tyler made two alterations to his schedule. The first was replacing his post-nap rest on the couch with an hour of watching The Great British Bake Off on the couch instead. It offered a little more stimulation as his tolerance improved, gave him a distraction from any bad thoughts, and restored his faith in humanity ever so slightly.

A year spent with acute psych patients meant a year spent with some of the most poorly treated people in society - although he hadn’t made friends, he had been forced to listen to their 5 minutes of compulsory contribution to group therapy 3 days a week. He knew snippets of their back stories, whether it be sexual assaults or abusive households, unsupportive parents or violent partners, abandonment or complete rejection. He’d learnt how cruel human beings could truly be, and it had truly warped his view of the world.

And somehow, a tent full of British people baking cakes and helping one another remove their moulds and work out the best method to roll their pastry thin enough for the technical challenge was innocent and pure enough to start balancing out the distaste he had for humans. It wasn’t enough to wipe his memory, but for that single hour he could immerse himself in the possibility that people could be kind. It was a great addition to the schedule.

The second change was Mom’s new routine of spending Monday and Thursday nights with Josh, leaving Dad in charge of Tyler. The combination was admittedly initially a cause for anxiety, but in fact they actually worked pretty well together. Dad didn’t baby Tyler too much, and therefore Tyler was starting to feel like he was improving and earning their trust as he managed the two hours each night with only occasional check ups rather than constant observations. It was his chance to test whether he really could keep himself safe - and so far, he was succeeding. Every Monday and every Thursday Mom left the house at 7pm, straight after dinner, and every Monday and every Thursday she’d return at 9pm to find him asleep in bed with no incidents to report. He was doing it, he was really doing it, and he couldn’t be more proud of himself.

Even Sundays were start to go better.

As well as his parents beginning to trust him to stay safe, Tyler was beginning to trust his dad to be able to deal with him, and that allowed him to relax. There was no more hiding in confined spaces when he was getting overwhelmed, his closet had been Tyler-free for a fortnight, because whenever he started feeling like he was setting foot onto that conveyor belt that ended in disaster, he yelled out for help and his dad was always there with a breathing pattern for him to copy and a word game for him to play.

He supposed he was more relaxed in general. His home felt more like a home and he was less afraid to move around in it. The creaks in the floorboards were more familiar and he knew where nearly all the light switches were now, and that feeling he could only describe as being a guest in a distant relative’s house was finally beginning to subside. Now, if he wanted to go somewhere, he’d go there. He didn’t need his mom to hold his hand and escort him round, he was free to do it himself.

“Morning handsome.” Dad looked up from his newspaper at the kitchen table and smiled warmly.  
“Morning, and, uh, and Merry Christmas,” Tyler smiled back as his fluffy socked feet carried him further into the room.  
“Merry Christmas to you too son,”

“Is that my little baby boy I hear??” Mom’s voice came from the pantry and a moment later she appeared wearing an awful knit Christmas jumper, carrying a bag of flour which she left on the worktop, and rushed towards him with a huge grin of her own.  
“If you mean your 21 year old son, yes it is,” Dad laughed at her nickname as she wrapped her arms around him in a squeeze that made him laugh too.

“Merry Christmas Mom,”  
“You too gorgeous,” she reached up and stroked his cheek, then went back to the kitchen whilst he sat down next to his dad at the table.

“How did you sleep?”  
“Good, yeah,”  
“Great. We already had the kids on FaceTime and Jay did the classic Christmas Eve trick of getting no sleep because he was so excited.” Dad told him and Tyler smiled, liking hearing about his siblings.  
“He claimed to have got no sleep at all, but in Jay language that means 7 hours rather than 9.” Mom knew all her children well and Tyler felt so lucky to have her in their lives.

“Right, Dad and I are having Christmas morning pancakes, and you can join us if you want, or you can have your usual breakfast. It’s up to you.”  
“Just bare in mind that Mom and I are heading out to see those other rotters at 11 and your schedule is gonna be impacted for a little while, so it might be wise to try and stick to it as close as you can whilst you can. Stay as calm as you can so today goes well, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler thought about it for a moment, tracing the checkered patten on the tablecloth with his finger. “But, I mean, pancakes,”  
“You raise a good point.” Dad chuckled.

“You think you’re gonna be okay? Swapping cereal for pancakes? Because I can double up this mixture.” Mom asked from the kitchen, pausing her mixing.  
“I, I think so?”  
“Well you don’t have to eat them if you change your mind,” the reassured him whilst picking up her measuring cup to add more ingredients to her bowl. “Chris, could you do his meds?”  
“Absolutely,” he stood up and left Tyler alone at the table whilst reaching up to the high cabinet at the opposite end of the kitchen and turning the dials on the lock.

Tyler didn’t know the code. He hadn’t tried to crack it, he didn’t need access to it, but he knew with almost complete certainty that his parents would have used a birthday belonging to either him or his siblings, so it wouldn’t be that difficult to figure out. Nonetheless Tyler was appreciative of the lengths they had gone to by having the special cupboard installed, and was very much pleased that he didn’t have to be dragged off to some distant bathroom to take his medications, but instead it could be done in the social area of the kitchen.

It might seem like a small thing, but he was very aware of the stigma surrounding psychiatric medication, and it meant more than he could ever express that his parents facilitated him taking his pills out in the open. One day his siblings would come home, and his medication would be in the cupboards just like their favourite cookies, and it would become normal for them to witness him being medicated. It wasn’t something hidden, done in secret, hushed over, it was a reality that Tyler relied on and he was so glad that his parents had made it a part of normal life by having it among the food. They were both essential, and they didn’t distinguish between the two.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe it didn’t really matter whether medication was kept in a bathroom compared to a kitchen, but to Tyler it did matter. To Tyler, it was another gesture of his parents’ acceptance - they weren’t hiding away a vital part of his recovery by putting his meds somewhere discrete, they were normalising his need for frequent access to medication without a hint of shame, and to Tyler that was beautiful. To Tyler, his mom sacrificing a cupboard and installing a chunky padlock was-

“Ty?”  
“Hmm?”  
“You okay son?” Dad was frowning as Tyler tuned back into his surrounding and saw the big plastic box filled with drugs was now on the table whilst his father sorted through them.  
“Yeh yeh, I’m just thinking about how I’m really glad you keep my medication in here.”  
“Well it’s important to keep everyone safe, and a lock does the job perfectly.”  
“I am grateful for the lock, but I meant the kitchen. I’m glad they’re kept in the kitchen.”  
“Oh, okay, how come?” He enquired whilst twisting off a lid from an orange tube.

“Because I think ultimately the kitchen is the heart of any home, and you’ve found room in your heart to accommodate my additional needs.”  
“You do like your metaphors,”  
“But he’s right Chris,” Mom said immediately. “Baby, I wouldn’t dream of storing them anywhere else. They belong here, because this is where we have our family time, and it’s important to acknowledge that different members of our family have certain things they require, and for you that’s medication. That’s not something I ever want you to feel ashamed of, and they’re not something to be embarrassed about. Having them in here, I’m hoping it’ll help everyone but especially your siblings become accustomed and familiar with the routine of meds, and that way avoid any big fuss, so it can just be accepted as normal and therefore help you feel more comfortable with your situation and around them.”

“Sometimes it feels like you two have access to a dimension that I don’t.” Dad muttered fondly under his breath and they both laughed.  
“Oh it’s a gays and females thing, overanalysing.” Mom teased. “You do get it though, don’t ya? Have the meds in here, once the kids are home they’re gonna be in here too, they’ll see the meds all the time, it won’t feel like a big deal after a while, everyone’s more comfortable. Ta dah, taboo dealt with.”  
“Genius.” He nodded approvingly, and Tyler smiled appreciatively at his mom, who blew a kiss.

“How’s that looking?” Dad asked a moment later, showing Tyler the plastic cup of pills and capsules that he had collated.  
“Uhhh,” Tyler quickly counted them up, “9, yeah, that’s right.”  
“Good-o, you want a few drops of magnesium in your water too?”  
“Yes please.” He nodded, watching as his dad found the bottle in the big box.

He’d started taking magnesium in addition to his prescribed meds after one of Mom’s friends from her support group for parents of mentally ill children had suggested it to her. It claimed to have all sorts of physical health benefits, but also a calming effect on the mind, and, whilst Tyler wasn’t completely convinced, he was happy to give it a shot. Maybe it was just coincidental timing, maybe the funny tasting drops were making all the difference. Either way, he was in no rush to eliminate the supplement from his routine.

“Bottoms up kiddo.” Dad put the drink and the medication in front of him, and Tyler started swallowing it all down, 2 pills at a time to stop himself from choking or gagging on them. Even though he’d been taking dozens of pills everyday for months and months, he still wasn’t very good at it and had to pay attention to make sure no sneaky doses floated into his cheek rather than down his throat.

“And just like magic, they’re gone.” His father smiled once he was done.  
“Thanks,” Tyler finished the last splashes of the water before handing it fo his dad who then took the cups and went back into the cooking area to put them by the sink and lock the box of drugs up again.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve been thinking,” he announced to his parents what he’d spent the past week debating bringing up or not, and figured that the perfect time wasn’t ever going to arise, so he just had to go for it. “I think, um, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to be involved with Christmas today.”  
“Involved? What does that mean baby?” Mom asked whilst pouring the first disk of batter onto the frying pan.  
“I want to join in.”  
“Oh okay darling, that’s really brave of you. Why don’t Dad and I call you once we’re there and we can have you on speaker phone so you can hear everything everyone’s saying.”  
“I think I’d like to go with you.”  
“Oh,” Mom’s happy tone dropped, and instantly Tyler regretted saying anything. They didn’t want him to go, they didn’t want him there, they didn’t want him messing up and complicating their plans - because that’s all he ever did, complicate things.

“Chris, watch this for me?” She gestured to the cooking pancake and he nodded, freeing her to be able to come and sit down next to Tyler.

“Sweetheart,”  
“Forget it, it was a dumb idea, don’t worry, just go without me, it’s fine, I don’t know what I was thinking, it’s fine.”  
“Tyler.” She stopped his mutterings by grabbing his hand. “I love you, but-“  
“It’s fine, I get it. Today’s a family day and you don’t want to be preoccupied babysitting me.”  
“No it’s not that at all, you’re a vital part of this family Ty, I just want to look out for your best interests. I don’t know whether it’s the safest option for you to participate.”

Tyler was in complete agreement with her, it definitely wasn’t the safest option, but that didn’t scare him off. For weeks he’d been prioritising safety over all else, including over his enjoyment of life. As grateful as he was for stability, and as much as routine gave him a sense of comfort, he couldn’t help the urge inside him for adventure. Perhaps adventure was an exaggeration, but a little variation to inject a hint of animation into an otherwise static existence.

“I think it’s very brave of you to want to try, but I think maybe we need a slight reality check. Today would be a big challenge, a lot of things you haven’t properly done in years. Even just going in the car is tricky, yeah? So adding on everything else after that, I just don’t think it’s wise Tyler.”  
“Yeh,” he whispered, not making eye contact, feeling foolish for even suggesting it, and embarrassed.

“Well why don’t we just cut out the car journey then?” Dad suggested from the stove.  
“And walk? It’ll take over an hour each way, I don’t think that’s any better,”  
“No no, why not have everyone round here instead? We can host, and if Ty has a wobble then you know you have the safety of your bedroom to escape to, and we can send them all back to Granny’s.”  
“Chris, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Mom shut him down and the room fell silent except the sizzle of the cooking pancake.

“Look, poppet, I love you, and I wish this could all come together for you, but 10am on Christmas morning is not really the time to be making plans. If you’d like then we can have a second Christmas some time in the future, once we’ve practiced going in the car, and rehearsed how we’re going to deal with seeing Zack again, and discussed details like gifts and meals. We can do that, but not today.”

“I just,” He mumbled under his breath. “I just thought, I thought since Granny’s coming to look after me, my routine is going to be wrong anyway. Why not have it wrong but rewarding?”  
“And what’s rewarding about Christmas for you? Because we can adapt and include it somehow.”  
“Seeing everyone together and happy.”  
“We can FaceTime?”  
“It’s not the same.” Tyler sighed.

“I’m sorry baby, it’s just not going to end well.”  
“You can’t possibly know that for sure.” Dad had finished cooking the single pancake that Mom had started and set it aside so that he could join them in discussion at the kitchen table.

“No I can’t see into the future, but I am aware of triggers, and there are significantly fewer with you staying here Ty.”  
“I’m agreeing with you on that one, leaving the house, going in a car, being somewhere unfamiliar and without a safe space is not a really a viable option at this stage, so let’s take that off the table completely. Gone. No, he won’t go to your mom’s for Christmas, that’s a definite. But I really don’t see what the issue is with bringing Christmas here.” He was supporting Tyler, and that earned him a few seconds of appreciative eye contact from his son.

“Everything’s set up there. They have the tree, and all the gifts, and they’ve decorated beautifully, and the ham and all the food, and I know my mom put a lot of effort into setting the dining room up nicely.”  
“And she, just like you, is a wonderfully selfless woman. I’m sure she would understand if we changed things up to include Ty.”  
“I, I, I don’t want to eat with them, just see them for a little while,” Tyler whispered timidly.  
“So when do we eat Tyler? Do we have everybody round first and you get pushed to your limit and potentially upset, and then I’m meant to leave you with my mom? Because that’s not fair on her or you. Or do we go round and eat first, leaving you with Granny which is going to be tricky for you, then overwhelm you once you’re already exhausted by bringing everybody round after. Either way babe, it doesn’t work.”

“It was dumb, forget it.”  
“It wasn’t dumb baby, just maybe not fully thought through, and that’s okay. If you want to see your siblings then I’m sure we can arrange that for sometime soon, but I think Christmas might be biting off more than you can chew at this stage.”

“It’s Christmas Day, I don’t, I don’t want to spend it apart from children. Not again.” Dad said in a somber tone a moment later, and Tyler couldn’t look at him.  
“He’s here Chris. For the first time in 3 years, he’s here.”  
“When was the last time we all sat in a room together? As a family? Years. Please, he wants to try, let’s just try.”  
“If it all goes wrong, then what? There’s too much at stake.” Mom stood her ground.  
“Well I’ll stay home with him then, you go to your mom’s, I’ll look after him.”  
“What about your 3 other children? They want to spend Christmas with their dad too - they’ve been so brave, staying with my mom, and they deserve a good Christmas with us both.”

“You can take me to the day program, at Campbell, and then both of you plus Granny can all be with Jay and Maddy and Zack.” Tyler whispered quietly. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”  
“No. You’re not an inconvenience, you’re my son, and I’ll spend the day with you. Hospital isn’t on the cards, you hate it so it isn’t an option.” Dad also put his foot down, and Tyler could feel the tension in the room pushing his heart rate up and up and up.

He shouldn’t have said anything.

“You’ve made your mind up, haven’t you?” Mom sighed, looking at her husband.  
“It’s his first Christmas at home, I’m not leaving him alone.”  
“He’s not alone, Granny’s coming, and you like Granny, don’t you Ty? She was good with you in the hospital after your incident.”  
“Yeh,” his nod was more enthusiastic than his whisper.  
“He’d clearly prefer us.”  
“And Jay, Zack and Maddy would also prefer to spend the day with us too, so what do you suggest?” Mom was getting stressed.  
“I already said. Let’s have Christmas here. All our kids, together, here.”  
“We’re going round in circles. It won’t work. I think we made a plan and we should stick to it.”  
“Sorry,” Tyler’s breath was shaking.

“He’s getting upset now.” Dad informed her.  
“I’m not,”  
“See this is what I mean baby, you’re not ready for such a huge challenge,” Mom used it against him.  
“I’m fine,”  
“This is what happens when he feels like we’re not listening to him, he shuts down.”  
“Stop,”  
“I do listen to him, I just have to think of the big picture, and what he wants isn’t necessarily what’s best for the family. You should be doing the same Chris, thinking about everyone rather than just you and Tyler. Staying here with him and denying Maddy and the boys a good Christmas is selfish-“  
“STOP!” Tyler finally burst and they stopped glaring at each other and turned to him instead.

“Stop it, stop fighting! It’s Christmas! Stop! I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry I can’t do all the things you need me to do to make Christmas perfect, I’m sorry I don’t fit into the perfect mould, I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault! It’s nobody’s fault, it, it, it just is the way it is! And fighting doesn’t change that! I’m sorry, just please, don’t take it out on each other!” He started to cry, but shied away from the hand Mom offered him. “I’m sorry Christmas sucks this year, and it sucked last year because you had to visit me when I was bad, and the year before I was really really sick too, I’m sorry it’s hard on everyone, but I’m doing my best this time to make it better.”  
“Baby,”  
“I’m not finished.” Tyler told her definitely, wiping his face with his sleeves. “It sucks, but I think I can do it! I really do! I, I, I’ll just sit in the corner and watch, and I’ll take PRN so I’m calm, and if I panic then I have my room! Or, or the swing, that helps too! Please, I want to try, please,”  
“What about Zack.” Mom interjected.  
“I feel ready.”  
“But what about him Tyler? Is he ready?! He is really anxious, and scared, and I haven’t seen him since he hit you. He told me he’s doing better but it’s so easy to lie over the phone; I don’t know if he’s ready to see you again darling. You’re not the only person who might struggle with a change of plan.”

“Why don’t you call him, Zack, bring up the possibility of maybe relocating Christmas to here for an hour or two this afternoon, see whether he’s up to it. Talk to the other two as well, see if they have an opinion, and your mom and dad, then we’ll regroup and see if this is even plausible.” Dad suggested and Mom sat and thought about it for a moment or two.

“Maddy and Jay are desperate to see Ty, I know that for sure. If I propose it, they’ll be heartbroken if I then retract the offer.”  
“Talk to Zack, then we’ll make a decision.”  
“You definitely want to do this Tyler?” Mom looked him in his blurry tear glazed eyes.  
“Yes.”  
“Okay, give me a while to talk to your brother,” she nodded, stood up, then left the room.

Dad and Tyler stayed at the kitchen table, the younger brushing occasional tears off his cheek in unsettling silence.

“Thank you,” Tyler eventually managed to murmur.  
“What was that kiddo?”  
“Thanks, you know, for fighting my corner,”  
“You don’t need to thank me.” Dad reassured him. “Do you need some PRN?”  
“No, I, I only just did morning meds. I’ll wait for them to kick in.”  
“Good thinking.” He nodded approvingly.

“It comes from a place of love, your mother’s protectiveness. She feels like she let you down before, and now she’s committed to keeping you as safe as possible. It’s not that she doesn’t want you to join in, or enjoy yourself, or anything like that. She just wants you safe.”  
“I know.”  
“Good.”

“Dad.”  
“Yes son?”  
“Zack. Is, is, um, is he okay?”  
“He has good days and bad days, same as you. He’s started having these anxiety attack things about a year ago, and your mom managed to get him to see a counsellor when he was home for summer break this year but he won’t see anybody whilst he’s at school in case all his friends find out. They’re not the same as your panic attacks, he doesn’t get hysterical, he just, I don’t know how to describe it, he freaks out and can’t breathe, and usually ends up bolting. They are getting better, he’s got a really wonderful girlfriend who helps him through them, and he uses basketball to get rid of any anxious energy if he can feel one coming, and he knows how to manage them a bit better, but he’s still got a fair amount of improving to do before he’s completely mended.”

“Is it because of me?”  
“I think him being so worried about you probably did play a part, yeah, but there are other things too. He gets really bad homesickness, and he’s struggling a bit to keep up with his classes so he gets anxious about it, and he’s always worrying about letting his team down and getting his scholarship taken off him because he broke a few fingers back in March and had to take a while off. His coach and I are both in agreement that you can’t tell he was benched, but he puts a lot of pressure on himself. So no, it’s not all because of you.”  
“Oh,”

“And hey, maybe if you two are going to start having a proper brotherly relationship again then you can give him a hand, teach him some of your new skills from Cygnet? I think he’d like that alphabet game if you feel up to showing him?”  
“Maybe.” Tyler nodded.  
“No pressure though kiddo, you look after yourself first,”  
“I will.”  
“Proud of you Ty. We made the right call, discharging you.”  
“Thanks Dad.”

 

 

Mom took a long time to come back, but when she eventually did she was filled with remorse. She apologised to Tyler and he immediately forgave her, not that he even really knew what she was apologising for, and yet she continued to apologise and hug him and apologise and comfort him and hold him and apologise and reassure him that she loved him and wanted him included and would do everything to make the day perfect. She spent so much time apologising and talking to him that Dad eventually made breakfast for them all, potentially for the first time in Tyler’s life. He was a man of many skills, but cooking was not one of them. Nevertheless the pancakes that arrived on Tyler’s plate over an hour after he first asked for them were actually surprisingly good.

Zack had agreed to the relocation of Christmas, and that meant that Tyler’s 3 siblings would be joining him any moment now. Granny was going to drop them off and then go back home, as it was decided that throwing grandparents onto the pile would only make things harder, and Tyler agreed with the decision. He loved his grandparents, he truly did, but siblings was hard enough.

Plans for Christmas lunch hadn’t been confirmed yet and he knew that was stressful for his mom, but he honestly didn’t know yet whether he’d be desperate for his brothers and sister to leave after a challenging hour spent together, or whether he’d feel so relaxed that he’d want their shared time to go on forever. The unknown was unnerving, but Tyler was doing his best to stay calm as they all awaited the doorbell.

“Right, that’s the last lot.” Mom announced as she brought down the last pile of presents that had been in Dad’s bedroom for the past few weeks as she found occasional time to shop and wrap when Tyler was settled and resting. He knew he had one gift, he had asked for none because he didn’t like the pressure that came with them, but one gift felt okay, and it came with the reassurance that he didn’t have to open in if he didn’t feel up to it.

“My my, and there’s more at your mom’s??” Dad tutted through a chuckle, sat with Tyler on the couch as they watched the mound grow and grow with each trip up and down the stairs.  
“All the ones Zack bought are there, plus a couple of bits and pieces I took when I visited on Sunday, but they’re going to bring them with them so we can open everything all together.”  
“You’ve outdone yourself Kel, truly you have.”  
“Well let’s just see if they like them first.” She smiled and tightened her ponytail whilst inspecting the pile.  
“I’m sure they’ll love them darling.” Dad told her and Tyler nodded along in support too.

“They’re running late.” Mom checked her watch and sighed, joining them on the couch, also sitting next to Tyler so he was sandwiched between them. “How you holding up?”  
“I’m okay.” Tyler nodded whilst she stroked his hair back. It was getting fluffier by the day, and he was enjoying the chance to twiddle and twist it more than he would admit.  
“You let Momma know if that changes,”  
“I promise I will.”  
“And if things start to go wrong and you’re overwhelmed?”  
“Straight up to my room.”  
“That’s right baby.” She checked he still remembered the first of many safety plans they had made in the past hour.

“You’re being so brave Tyler, we’re both very proud of you kid.”  
“You’ve been so brave your whole life, but especially the last 6 or so months since you set your heart on true recovery. The strength and resilience you’ve shown, it’s amazing, truly amazing,” Mom agreed, and Tyler smiled meekly, not knowing how to react to a compliment that hit so close to home.  
“And it’s going to pay off in the end. All the fight you’re putting up now, it’ll lead you to-“ a doorbell cut Dad off. “Someplace beautiful. Gimme a moment, I’ll go open it, okay?”  
“Yeh,” Tyler nodded shakily.  
“You got this kiddo,” his father told him firmly and Tyler wanted to believe him.

Mom stayed sat by his side, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders lovingly. He knew she wanted to say something, comfort him, but they were both listening out for the familiar voices at the door.

“Hello hello, now, I feel like I know you guys from somewhere,”  
“Dad!!” Jay was the first to greet him in what sounded like a jumped hug, judging from Dad’s groans.  
“Hey buddy, Merry Christmas. You too my gorgeous angel, Merry Christmas.”  
“Thanks Dad,” Maddy was the next to speak up.  
“Shoes off before you go in please guys, don’t want snow everywhere, get it all off please.”  
“Yessss Daaaaddd,” Jay moaned as he stomped his snowy feet.

“Where’s Zack?”  
“He’s in the car with Granny.” Jay answered, and Tyler’s immediate thought was that his brother was having one of his anxiety attacks, all because of him.  
“He’s just helping her with the big bag of presents,” Maddy expanded and offered a little relief.  
“Do they need a hand? Should I go help?”  
“It looked like they had it covered to me.” She replied.  
“Alright. Oi, Jay, do you think your coat really belongs on the floor? Does that look like the coat rack to you?”  
“Well I don’t know what the coat rack looks like, I haven’t beeeeeen here in a million gazillion yearssss.”  
“You’re a very intelligent boy, I’m sure you can figure out that the coat rack is that thing with all the coats on it??” Dad teased whilst Mom held Tyler carefully and yet confidently, knowing she was there for him if anything went wrong.

“Have you guys had a nice morning?”  
“Yeah! Santa came!”  
“Santa came? Oh wow, what did he get you?”  
“I got a new shirt and Dad! Dad! I got the exact sneakers that I wanted! Santa must have read my list!” Jay was clearly bouncing around, and Tyler couldn’t help a small smile.  
“Wow, that’s awesome. What about you Madster?”  
“I got a really nice dress, I like it a lot actually, it’s flattering-“  
“She looks beautiful Dad.”  
“Aww that’s nice of you to say about your sister kid.”

“Where’s Tyler? Is he here?” Jay asked the question that made Tyler’s chest go a bit funky.  
“He is here yeah, and he’s doing really really well, but we still have to use our calm voices. The calmer your voice, the calmer Ty is, okay? So just be gentle, and remember to do good listening to anything he says, and if he asks you to do anything like step back or give him some space, can you promise Dad that you’ll do it straight away without asking him why?”  
“Promise.”  
“Promise.” They both agreed immediately.  
“Good. Right, I’m going to go check on Zack and Granny, make sure they’re managing okay since you two rotters came in empty handed and left them to carry everything. Why don’t you poke your heads round the living room door and see whether Ty’s ready to say hi?”

“Feeling okay?” Mom whispered against Tyler’s hair whilst kissing his crown, but he didn’t have time to answer before two smiley but respectively patient heads appeared in the door frame.

“Hi Mom!” Jay was clearly excited.  
“Hey my beauties, come in, wow, loving the sweaters,” she laughed as their ugly Christmas jumpers were unveiled, Maddy’s blue with a cute penguin and Jay’s red with a basketball ball topped with vague holly sprig which together looked kind of like a Christmas pudding. It was genius.  
“Thanks, Granny knitted it for me,”  
“She made one for you too Tyler,” Maddy told him and he smiled. “It’s got a Christmas cracker on it,”  
“Cos I’m crackers?” Tyler whispered then laughed.  
“No! No, I think it was just random, sorry, she didn’t mean it like that,” she rushed to apologise.  
“It’s fine, it’s funny,”

“Come here, give your Momma a cuddle.” Mom quickly moved the conversation on, standing up and extending her arms towards her youngest son. Tyler watched with a little smile, then accidentally made eye contact with his sister who was hovering awkwardly, waiting for her turn. He decided he’d copy his mom and hug her, half because he thought he ought to and half because he actually wanted to.

“Merry Christmas,” he managed to mouth shakily as he wrapped himself around her small shoulders, and instantly she melted against his chest.  
“Merry Christmas Ty, thank you for working so hard to make today so special.”  
“Thank you for being so patient whilst I’ve been working.”  
“Course, anything for you.” She curled her arms around his hips and sighed, squeezing him tight then relaxing. “You feeling a bit better since I last saw you?”  
“So much better,” Tyler nodded honestly. “I was just, uh, just overwhelmed all the time, constantly at my breaking point, so tiny little things were pushing me over the edge. Now I’m so much calmer, it’s, it’s a nice change.”  
“Aw I’m glad Ty,”

“How are you? How’s staying at Granny’s?”  
“It’s better now that we’re more used to each other’s routine, like she’s stopped trying to feed me mash potato now, and she buys my brand of shampoo without me having to ask, so it feels more relaxed and homely. But Christmas break has been weird, not having access to just crash in my room,”  
“Yeah,”  
“However I totally get that you need the house and the space and I’m not rushing you so please don’t feel pressured, take as long as you need, I’d rather live with Granny forever than see you get sick again.”

“I don’t wanna live with Granny forever!” Jay caught onto their conversation and the siblings broke apart to see him pouting.  
“Not forever, just a short while longer, then you’ll start coming home slowly until your back with Momma for good.” Mom explained to him.  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.” She nodded.  
“And if not then you get to tackle me,” Tyler kidded along and Jay grinned mischievously in a way that made them all laugh.

“Do I get a Christmas hug-“ he barely even finished his sentence before Jay threw himself at Tyler, planting his face straight into his stomach and making him stagger back a step before clutching onto him and smiling, revelling in the innocent affection shown by the youngest child in the family.

“I’m so excited!”  
“For your presents?”  
“For sitting with you!” Jay squealed joyfully and Tyler smiled at his mom, having a silent moment of mutual pride before he answered.  
“Aw, I’m looking forward to spending some time with you too bud,”

“How about me?” An unfamiliar voice asked from the other side of the living room, and Tyler looked up to see Zack walking in alongside their dad. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone awaited the next move, Tyler’s heart hammering away at his rib cage as he surveyed the strange face that belonged to the person who had been his only friend for years and years.

“Wow, dramatic Zack, way to avoid anxiety for the two dudes with anxiety,” Maddy broke the silence with a teasing jab and Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he awaited Zack’s reaction, not knowing whether another flash of rage was going to possess him all over again and land Tyler back in a bloodied pulp on the floor or not.  
“Shut up,” Zack cracked a smile, and Tyler could have breathed a sigh of release had he not been on the verge of tears as his little brother came closer still.

“Well go on, make small talk everyone, at least pretend not to eavesdrop,” he encouraged the others with a circular motion of his hand, and it dawned on Tyler that Zack wanted to talk straight away. No time for the ice to thaw slowly as they got used to even being in the same room as each other, instead they were jumping straight into the deep end and Tyler could hear the alarm bells going off in his brain.

His parents and two youngest siblings obeyed and immediately started chatting and busying themselves with discussing the huge pile of presents and granny and Christmas jumpers and Christmas morning so far and any other conversation topics that were light enough for them to be able to phone it in and redirect their attention to the two brothers standing an awkward distance from each other in the corner, neither airing the unsaid words haunting their lips as they continued scouring each other’s faces to try and reach a point of recognition.

“Hi Tyler,”  
“Hi,”  
“Welcome home.” Zack finally managed to say.  
“Thanks,”

“How was hospital?”  
“Bad,”  
“But you got better,”  
“Kinda,” Tyler could feel his heart racing as his eyes flicked a thousand times a second as he scanned the stranger in front of him with mature 5 o clock shadow framing his soft jaw line and deep lines scratched into his cheeks under his tired eyes.

“You’re at school.”  
“I am, yeah,”  
“Congrats,”  
“Thanks,”

“Sorry, you know, for hitting you.”  
“S’fine,”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,”

“Sorry for ruining your life,” Tyler took his turn to apologise.  
“It’s all good, don’t worry about it.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,”

“Alright this is weird, I don’t like it, someone force me to take a cheesy photo or fake excitement over a bad gift or something, this is weird,” Zack turned to the rest of their family for help and Tyler had to admit that he was grateful. He wasn’t ready for a deep and meaningful, not yet.

“You can start by saying hello to your mother,”  
“Hello to your mother,” Zack had the same sense of humour as their father as he went over to her with a cheeky grin, towering above her by only a small height but grand stature. Tyler watched as she held him tight and nestled against him lovingly, and he wondered what it looked like when it was him hugging her - he imagined he looked far smaller.

“You good?” A voice made him jump and Dad had appeared by his side, whispering semi discretely.  
“Think so.”  
“Want to pop next door with me for a minute? Sit and calm down a little?”  
“I feel calm.” Tyler said honestly.  
“Well I’m very glad to hear that son, you’re doing phenomenally so far, just kicking ass and taking names.”  
“Thanks Dad,”  
“Lemme know if that’s not the case at any point, and you and me will go take a time out to settle and adjust.”  
“I think I’m okay for now, but, but thanks.”  
“Good kid.”

Mom was still clinging onto Zack as Tyler looked on, understanding the embrace was fuelled by a cocktail of her own anxiety and concern and pride and love and protectiveness. He wondered what it must be like for her, having two sons struggling with their mental health, but he also wondered what it must be like for Zack. There was no denying that, on paper at least, Tyler had it ‘worse’, so did that make Zack feel invalidated? Or discourage him from verbalising his struggles? Or did he not compare himself to Tyler, not admit they were two sides of the same coin, not want to associate his position with his big brother’s? Maybe he didn’t overthink things as much as Tyler. Unlikely but possible, and he hoped for his brother’s sake that it was true.

“Right, drinks, people need drinks,”  
“Kelly, sit down, this ugly bunch know their way to the kitchen if they’re thirsty, they can sort themselves out.” Dad insisted, knowing her tendency to do everything for everyone.  
“I’ll go.” Maddy volunteered. “I’ll make tea, anybody want anything different?”  
“Water please.” Jay asked and she nodded before looking around for any other requests.  
“Coffee would be nice thanks darl,” Dad said and again she nodded.  
“Okay, Zack, Ty?”  
“Tea’s good.”  
“Same for me,”  
“How do you take your tea?” She couldn’t remember, or didn’t know, but Tyler understood why and stopped his spiral of over examining the metaphor before it upset him.  
“I’ll come with you, give you a hand,”  
“Awesome, thanks guys,” Dad smiled appreciatively as the siblings left the room together.

Maddy immediately started filling the kettle up whilst Tyler went over to the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. As she got out mugs, he got out teabags. She found the coffee granules as he retrieved the teaspoons, and as she tossed the bags and granules into their appropriate reciprocals, he tugged a bottle of water out of the plastic multipack wrapping for Jay. They worked in perfect harmony.

Once the obnoxiously loud sound of the kettle died down and she poured out the hot water, conversation naturally sprung up between the two with an ease that Tyler hadn’t known in years.

“He’s pleased you know,”  
“Zack?”  
“Yeah. He was really hoping that you’d give him a second chance.”  
“I was always going to give him a second chance, I forgave him the same day he punched me, it was just a matter of timescale.”  
“He hasn’t forgiven himself.”  
“Suppose he hasn’t known what I’ve been thinking, whether I hated him or whatever. He’s had nothing to reassure himself with. I’ll do my best to put his mind to rest.”  
“Thanks Ty,” she smiled, pouring a little milk into the first cup.  
“I’ll have the same amount for mine.”  
“Coming right up.”

“I feel like I should have got you guys gifts, to say thank you for how patient you’ve all been.”  
“Surprised Mom hasn’t bought them on your behalf and just written your name on the label.”  
“I mean she very well might have, guess we’ll see,” he chuckled a little.  
“She is the woman who got everyone presents on one of our birthdays so that the others wouldn’t get jealous after all.”  
“Oh yeah, I remember that,”

“Did you have a nice birthday?”  
“Stable day, which was probably the most I could have managed.”  
“Yeah,”  
“I could tell Mom was just itching to sing to me and put candles in a cupcake or something, but credit to her she managed to resist.” Tyler told her as she listened with a soft smile. “But there’s always other years for all that shenanigans.”  
“Yeah totally, we’ll make sure your 22nd is the best birthday ever. And if your idea of the perfect day is doing absolutely nothing then I will do everything in my capabilities to ensure it is the blandest most plain and boring day ever.”  
“And that’s why you’re my favourite sister.”  
“I’m also your only sister,” she laughed.

“Can you grab me a tray? They’re down there.”  
“Sure thing,” he opened the cupboard she pointed to and pulled out a big ugly thing covered in an excessive floral patterning. His sister transferred all the white china cups without spilling a single drop, and Tyler lifted up Jay’s water by the neck of the bottle then lead the way back to the main room, holding the door open for his sister and her precarious load.

The others had all found places to sit, Dad in his armchair, Jay in the corner of the L shaped couch, and Mom and Zack next to the opposite arms. It left two spaces, one next to each of them, and Tyler didn’t know whether he should go for the safe option with his Momma, or push himself with his brother.

“Wow, thank you darlings,” Mom smiled as her only daughter started passing round the hot drinks, and Tyler gave Jay his bottle then hovered uncertainly, still not decided on seating. “I say you two get first gifts.”  
“Only if you want yours Ty,” Dad remembered his anxiety over the pressures surrounding opening gifts, but thankfully his concern wasn’t needed.  
“I, I think I’ll be okay.”  
“Good for you baby, come on, come sit here.” Mom patted the cushion next to her.  
“Actually, uh, can, can I sit with Zack?”  
“Oh yes, course angel,” she had a small smile growing across her cheeks as Tyler carefully settled down next to his brother, both hands wrapped around his cup of tea, struggling to fully relax.

“Lemme grab your pressie, and one for Maddy too.” Mom leapt up and started sifting through the huge pile, the rest of the family watching on in silence.

Zack was right next to him, and Tyler couldn’t help noticing his hand resting on his thigh, knuckles bruised and cut up. Had he been fighting? It couldn’t be from the beating he’d received, that was too long ago and his lip was long since healed, so the wounds wouldn’t make sense to still be around for Zack. Maybe fighting was a regular thing for Zack now, maybe that was his coping method of choice. And who was Tyler to say that it was any worse than his tendency to self harm? After all the argument that fighting hurt other people was nullified by his substantial evidence of him hurting those around him with his cutting.

Zack noticed his stares and moved his hand, crossing it over his chest.

“For you, Merry Christmas baby,” Mom putting a huge rectangular box on his lap, then awaited his reaction patiently, stood a few feet away.

The box was covered in red and gold striped wrapping paper. Tyler hated wrapping paper. It wasn’t a new thing, it had been that way his whole life, and he couldn’t see himself getting over the fear anytime soon. To him, it wasn’t irrational; this was a roll of cheaply made Chinese paper containing lead, synthetic inks, plastic film, chlorine and metal-based foils, which released toxic and carcinogenic compounds. To add insult to injury, the half used rolls were stored in the attic year round, where they became covered in mould spores and millions upon millions of bacteria, just festering and waiting for some unsuspecting soul to touch them on Christmas morning. No, he couldn’t.

“Tyler, sweetheart, look at Momma. Open your eyes,” he realised that everybody could see him freaking out, that he hadn’t managed to contain it to his brain and it had leaked out in tight body language and quick breaths. “Good boy, I’m gonna take it away, okay? Would that help?”  
“It’s the wrapping paper. He’s never liked it.” Zack yawned casually.  
“Is that right baby?” She asked and he nodded shakily. “Okay, would it help if we took it off for you?”  
“I wanna open it! I wanna open it!” Jay volunteered.  
“Should we let Jay open it?”  
“Yeah,” Tyler managed to say something, still not comfortable with the paper on his knees. Thankfully Jay snatched it off him, ripping it up with a giddy smile, then presented the box to him excitedly.

“It’s us!” He cried out happily, and Tyler put his tea on the floor between his feet, then took the box back from him.

On the front was potentially Tyler’s favourite picture ever taken. It had been a few weeks after Josh had moved in and a few weeks after Tyler had finished his intensive rehabilitation at the brain injury clinic, and the family were starting to settle into a normal life with a live-in boyfriend. They’d gone for an impromptu picnic to celebrate the start of better times, the whole family fitting on a red and white checker blanket alongside a feast that Mom had prepared. Tyler remembered that Debby had come along, and she was the one behind the camera. That gave the image a tint of sadness, just like the sadness that underpinned everything, but he instead focused on the gleeful smiles of his family and Josh. Josh was sat next to him, holding his hand, leaning in close, happy.

But the gift wasn’t just a reminder of the love surrounding him, it was also a jigsaw. A 1000 piece jigsaw of his family.

“I thought we could do this one once we finished our current one, and if you like the personalised touch then I thought we could go through the albums and pic out some more to be made up. They’re really reasonably priced, and only take a week, so we can make lots and lots if it’s something you’re enjoying Ty. If you prefer the general pattern ones then that’s more than alright, but it might be the case that building pictures of your family brings back some happy memories for you, and we’re hoping it will help remind you of all the good times we’ve had, and inspire you to keep up this spectacular trajectory so we can continue making happy memories together.”  
“Thank you Mom, I, I love it,”

 

 

Over the next half an hour the pile of gifts were distributed to the rest of the family, and Tyler managed to stay pretty grounded throughout. Occasionally he caught himself zoning out as his energy banks were depleted, but every time he figured out a way to centre himself again, whether it be though breathing exercises or imagination games, and once by squeezing his nails into his palms, but he vowed not to need that again.

Every time it was Zack’s turn for a present, he was extra careful to keep the wrapping paper away from Tyler, which he greatly appreciated. Even though they hadn’t said anything, they were both relaxing in each other’s company gradually, and Tyler noticed that his own shoulders weren’t as hunched as normal.

It didn’t scare him when Zack’s bruise hand moved over towards him, and gestured to the jigsaw. Tyler let him take the box that he’d been clutching tightly, and watched as he ran a finger under the two pieces of tape keeping the lid on so that he could pop it off and reveal the scattered pieces within.

“Wanna try and find our faces, see if they look derpy.” He explained whilst Dad helped Jay to assemble the remote control monster truck he’d received.  
“Okay,” Tyler watched him curiously as he shuffled the thousand tiles around.

“I, uh, I take a psychology class at school,”  
“Oh yeah? Is it interesting?”  
“Kinda.” Zack shrugged, still searching for a face-piece, but Tyler felt honoured that his brother was taking classes to try and understand him and his position more. At least that was how he chose to interpret it.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting. Like we’ve spent ages on research methods and then we did memory models, and classical and operant conditioning, and that kind of stuff. Don’t get me wrong, it is interesting, I was just hoping for more stuff that I’d have a home field advantage for, yanno, since I lived with a real life case study for my whole life?”  
“Is crazy brother one of the modules?”  
“There’s development of anxiety in adolescents, but no full blown psychos like you unfortunately,” Zack teased and Tyler smiled.

“Look,” Tyler saw half of Dad’s face on a piece of the jigsaw and picked it out, passing it to him. Zack peered at it for a moment then sniggered and carried on digging for more.

“They save the juicy stuff for people majoring.”  
“But it’s your minor?”  
“Haven’t declared yet. Probably won’t. I don’t think it’s a good idea to give myself extra work, I mean I’m already falling behind on my credit counts. Should have earned a lot more than I have and I’ve got no clue when I’m gonna make them up if I wanna graduate on time. It would be nice, to minor in something, specially psychology if it progressed to stuff I know about cos of you, but I don’t know whether I can keep up.”

“Dad said you’re, uh, you’re finding it tough to stay on top of things?”  
“Yeah, you could say that. Just with basketball everyday, doesn’t leave me much spare time to study. Or breathe.” He emitted the anxiety attacks, but Tyler didn’t say anything. “Ooh, found you,”  
“Oh yeah,” Tyler smiled at the jagged piece with his face on. “Bet it’s nice to have a break, time off from the stress of it all?”  
“And come back to the stress of this whole situation instead,” he sighed, and Tyler didn’t know how to react until his brother cracked a smile again and he realised he was partially joking.

“I’m sorry, for making your whole college life difficult, but especially so these last few weeks since you heard about my incident in the bathroom from Maddy and learnt of my discharge.”  
“I made the last few weeks difficult for you too, I mean Jesus I punched you in the face, and I was so fucking cruel to you Tyler. I wanted to hurt you with my words, wanted you to get worked up because I was so stuck in my own head, and for that I’m sorry. This has got to be one of the scariest things you’ve ever done, leaving hospital, and I did pretty much the worst thing possible-“  
“I forgive you.”  
“Well then I forgive you too.” Zack finally looked him in the eye. “Friends?”  
“Friends.” Tyler nodded.

Maddy and Mom were cuddled up talking, Dad and Jay were putting the finishing touches to the remote controlled truck, and nobody was helicopter-parenting him. It felt good.

“I got you a little something.”  
“You did what?”  
“A gift, just in case I needed to bribe you to be my bud again. You don’t have to have it, I just saw it in the mall when I was Christmas shopping with Maddy a few days back and thought you might like it. And because I’m the best, I didn’t even wrap it. Remembered the hysterics on Christmas and birthdays when you were little, refusing to touch the stuff, figured I’d splash out on a $1 gift bag for you. Consider it your birthday present on top.”  
“Ta,” he smiled to himself.  
“Wanna go get it together? It’s in the hall.”  
“Sure,” Tyler stood up and waited as Zack put the jigsaw away.

“Ty? Baby? You okay?” Mom asked concerned, and the room fell silent, like they were waiting for him to spiral, anxious on the edge of their seats.  
“I’m good, honest, Zack’s just gonna show me something,”  
“That makes it sound well dodgy! I got him a little present Mom, so I’m just gonna give it to him.”  
“Outside? Ty hasn’t done much outside stuff yet.”  
“No no, brought it in from the car, just dumped it with my coat in the hall.”  
“Alright, shout if you need me?”  
“We will, don’t worry, he’s got this,” Zack tapped him on the arm playfully and Tyler didn’t instantly feel disgusting, which was dramatic improvement from days gone by.

Zack showed the way, making a path across the room where Tyler could avoid all wrapping paper, then opened the door for him with a patient smile. In silence he crouched down and picked up a red bag with string handles and gave it to Tyler as they both sat down on the couch.

“You don’t have to pretend to like it if it’s not your cup of tea.” The younger told him as he pulled a cube box out and inspected it.  
“A night light?”  
“Yeah, night light projector thing, it makes pretty patterns on the ceiling, stars and stuff, and if you don’t want the projection then you can put the spherical lid on and it becomes a cool glowing orb instead.” Zack explained. “I just, I know you had one as a kid when we shared a room, and then remember when Mom made me move back in with you when you couldn’t stop cutting as a teen? I just remember you being really scared of the dark. You never wanted me to switch the lights off, and I’m pretty sure you had a torch that you used to keep on but hide inside your pillowcase so that you had a glowing light to stop you panicking.”  
“Yeah I did,”

“I obviously don’t know what your sleep situation is like now, but I thought it might help you at night because I know it gets difficult, and Mom told me that you take lots of rests through the day, so maybe it could help you relax to just have it on? I dunno, have a play, see if it’s any good. If not, oh well, no biggie.”  
“That’s really thoughtful of you Zack, thank you so much,”  
“You’re welcome,” he shrugged as Tyler tried to think of what to say next. He didn’t know whether it was appropriate to ask after his brother’s mental health, but at the same time he didn’t feel it could go unaddressed.

“I, uh, I didn’t get you anything.”  
“The gifts of your company and your forgiveness are more than enough.”  
“I thought I could, uh, well Dad, he suggested maybe I could teach you some of the, the, uh, the techniques I learnt from Cygnet to tackle panic attacks? Or anxiety attacks?”  
“You know about them hey?”  
“Dad let it slip, sorry.”  
“No no, don’t worry, don’t mind my big brother knowing. I mean I know all of your secrets, why not let you in on mine?”

“Why’s it a secret Zack? Why don’t your friends know?”  
“Believe it or not, I’m actually pretty cool.”  
“Pfff,” Tyler teased.  
“I dunno, I just, bullshit image stuff. I play division 1 basketball, everyone comes out to watch all the games, and they cheer and have posters with my name on and whatever, and I party with the cool crowd, and I have a smoking hot girlfriend. I’m living the jock dream, yanno?”  
“Except you’re not.”  
“Cept I’m not.” He sighed. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, you know? I’m playing collegiate basketball Ty, that has been my dream my whole life, and now I’ve achieved it and it’s just, ugh, I dunno, it’s not what I was hoping for.”  
“The basketball though, that’s fun right? It’s just the attacks that are putting a dampener on things.”  
“I don’t know if it’s fun, I don’t know if I’m enjoying it, I don’t know because everything is overruled by either the occurrence of an attack or the fear of one occurring.”  
“I get it.”  
“Course you do.”

“It doesn’t change by itself, in fact it gets worse if left to its own devices. It’s like a disease, growing stronger each day, and you’ve got to step in and do something before it consumes you.”  
“Do something? Do what?”  
“There’s no hack, just therapy, and self care, and maybe medication if it gets that bad.”  
“Self care, isn’t that like, face masks and shit?”  
“It’s treating yourself well, taking care of yourself, so yeah face masks fit the label. I mean for me I had to basically start from scratch, had to teach myself to shower, and get dressed, and brush my teeth, and essentials like that. Luckily you haven’t quite sunk that low, but still basic stuff like taking a break when you can feel yourself getting stressed, and making sure that your needs are being met.”  
“Feels like I don’t have time.”  
“It’s essential Zack.” Tyler told him softly. “What good is passing a class if you end up pushing too hard and having a breakdown and not be able to graduate anyway.”

“It’s just tough. I mean don’t get me wrong, it makes sense, I have to prioritise my mental health above all else, but when I’m actually at my desk and it’s like 4 in the morning and the paper is due at 8, I can never seem to stop myself working.”  
“You put too much pressure on yourself.”  
“Maybe,”  
“No definitely. And not sleeping, pulling all nighters, that’s not gonna help your situation.”

“I just don’t want them to pull my scholarship.”  
“Why would they do that?”  
“I failed two of my classes last semester, algebra, and economics, stuff that I need for my degree, and the others I only just managed to scrape through. It’s not that I’m not trying, I, I haven’t missed a class this year, and I study hard, and I’ve even had some tutoring, I just, I can’t, I, maybe I’m just an idiot, I don’t know.”  
“You’re certainly not an idiot. I mean you’re doing business, isn’t that up there with like law and medicine as the toughest degrees out there?”  
“Doubt it, but everyone else just seems to sail through it and find time for getting up to fun stuff, the stuff you’re meant to be doing in college rather than having crippling anxiety attacks.”  
“You don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors for them either. But Zack, at the end of the day, if it takes you can extra year to graduate then it takes you an extra year to graduate, it’s not the end of the world, yeah? You have to keep things in perspective. School is just school,”

“I must sound like such a dick, complaining about school when you lost everything.”  
“Not everything. Still got you guys.”  
“Hell yeah you do, and don’t you forget it.” Zack tried to say cheerfully, but Tyler could see straight through it, simply observing his brother’s facade dissolve in his company.

“I have been waiting so long for this. So long,” he was tearing up. “Just waiting to get my big brother back.”  
“I’m here now.” Tyler held his hand out, which Zack immediately grabbed a hold of as he tried to gulp down the brewing emotion. “Sometimes it feels like you’re the big brother, the way you’ve watched out for me all these years. And I know, well I don’t know, I’ll never truly know, but I do appreciate how difficult it is to be the sibling of someone like me. From when I was little and couldn’t play the games you wanted to play, right through all of school when I was struggling not to self harm every second of the day, and now this final challenge, psychosis and addiction. That’s a lot for you have to witness, and it’s a lot for you to try and comprehend, and it’s a lot for Mom to try and manage and therefore a lot of time that should be spent on you being spent on me instead.”

“I’m, I’m not jealous of the attention you got and are getting Ty, you need it, I understand that.” Zack attempted to reassure him, wiping away a subtle tear. “You’re, don’t dismiss this Tyler, you are so strong, and I hope you know that.”  
“It’s not strength when I don’t have a choice.”  
“You do have a choice, right now you could just run out that door and go straight back to your dealer. But you’re not, you’re here, with us, with me.”

Tyler didn’t say anything.

“I, um, I have this picture,” He squeaked, face crumpling up. “Can I, um, can I show you?”  
“Yeah course.” Tyler nodded and his brother let go of his hand and instead pulled a bag up from the floor beside him and rummaged through it before finding a wallet. He watched closely as Zack flipped it open with familiar ease and reached into the back pocket to slip out a small image that Tyler didn’t even recognise at first.

“Is that, gosh, is that me?”  
“Yeh,” Zack let him take it, holding it closer to his face for inspection. The picture was coloured but faded, it only showed his head and upper torso, and Tyler looked a complete wreck. He was skinny, painful skinny with bones jutting out of his shoulders underneath the dirty tee he was wearing, and cheek bones hollow and showing the distinctive shape of his skull beneath with haunting clarity. The skin stretched over it was ripped and bruised, scratches on his cheeks, an egg shaped lump on his forehead from head banging, and several deep cuts on his neck, one still with stitches. A patchy and unruly beard took up part of his face, and his hair was a tangled mess. But perhaps most haunting was his eyes, sunken deep into his sockets and framed in shadows, completely dull and lifeless.

“What is this?”  
“Your mugshot.” The younger sniffed as he explained. “I, uh, I can’t remember exactly which arrest that one was, um, may, maybe criminal trespassing I think? You, uh, you got high, or were sick, or both, and you wound up wandering into some random house who had their door unlocked. They called the cops. You didn’t get charged or nothing, but we got that photo.”  
“Why do you keep it on you?”  
“I carry it because I used to have to.” Zack was shaking. “I’d get the call, T-Tyler’s missing, and strai-aight away I could start asking people i-if they’d seen y-you. Nobody e-ever said yes, not once, b-but I had to keep tr-try-y-ying, I h-had to k-k-keep try-y-ying,”

“Come here,” Tyler let out a deep breath as he opened up his arms and his brother collapsed against his weak chest, dissolving into a fit of tears as Tyler tried to hold onto his jerking hyperventilating body, gently shushing him alongside a discrete swaying rock back and forth.

“It’s done, you hear me? It’s done. Never again. I’m not going anywhere I promise. I’m clean, I’m sober, I’m medicated, I’m diagnosed, and I’m sure as Hell not putting you through that again.”  
“I th-thou-ought y-you were d-d-de-ead s-so-o m-many t-t-ti-times.”  
“I’m sorry Zack, I’m so sorry, I never meant to do this to you.” Tyler rested his head on top of his brother’s, feeling his every gasp. “I’m so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say or do that will take away all the pain, but I promise that the future is going to better than the past, okay? It’s getting better, we’re heading in the right direction and we’re leaving the past where it belongs. Behind us.”

“W-when M-M-Ma-addy c-called, I thou-ught y-you mi-might’ve d-d-done i-it, k-ki-killed yours-s-self.”  
“That must have been so scary, and I completely understand your reaction and why you got so mad. It was a lot to process, so much going on, and you had nowhere to direct that, did you?”  
“N-no.”  
“So how about we make a little deal, hey? You and me? I’ve not been having therapy recently, Mom didn’t want to disrupt me, but I feel like I’m ready to start up again. How about I’ll start seeing Dr Wakefield again in the new year if you speak to a counsellor or a psychologist yourself.”  
“L-like th-ther-erapy?”  
“Exactly that, therapy. I think it would help Zack, I really do.”

“I c-can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“D-don’t h-ha-have t-ti-ime.”  
“It’s an hour, sometimes only 45 minutes, a week. I know you’re stressed, I appreciate you don’t have much free time as it is, but this is important. You need to make time Zack. And this is time that you’ll get back, because you’re going to be able to reclaim the time that once belonged to anxiety for yourself. By putting in some hard work now, you’re going to make the resulting weeks so much easier.”  
“T-too e-ex-exp-p-pens-sive.”  
“Insurance should cover it if you go to the doctor first, but if not, of course Mom and Dad will pay,”

“M-my f-f-frien-ends, th-they’ll fi-find ou-out,”  
“If they find out and they have a problem with it, they’re not truly your friends. When you are going through something like this, you need people around you who are going to be supportive and there when you need them, not petty types who have an issue with someone taking care of themselves.”  
“You d-don’t u-unders-s-stand.”  
“I don’t understand the social aspect, maybe not, but I do understand what you’re doing by finding as many excuses not to do this as possible. Therapy is scary, I know, it’s fucking scary. It’s making yourself vulnerable and opening yourself up to talking about things that you’ve bottled up for years potentially. But Zack, you don’t have much choice, okay? The bottling it up method isn’t working, it’s already starting to bubble up in the form of these anxiety attacks, and it’s not going to settle without intervention.”

“I-it, it w-w-won’t g-go a-w-way? If I d-don’t s-star-art therap-py?”  
“There’s always a chance I suppose, but very unlikely in my unqualified opinion.”

Tyler held his brother as he cried, wanting to make it all better but knowing he couldn’t. And at that moment he understood to just a small degree what it was like for those around him who could only watch from the sidelines as he battled day in day out. A horrible twinge pulled at his heart as he sighed and nestled closer.

“We’ll figure it out Zack.”

 

 

  
A few hours later and Maddy, Jay and Zack had all gone back to Granny’s, ladened high with gifts, and, for the most part, happy memories from the day spent together. Eventually Mom had come to check on the brothers and discovered the scene, and had squeezed into sit between them and hugged them both, one arm each.

Tyler allowed her to comfort them both for a few minutes, but realised that Zack needed the one to one time and so slipped away and rejoined the rest of the family in the front room, leaving them to talk. The experience was draining, and at first he couldn’t find the energy to interact with the youngest two siblings, but eventually he dug deep and managed to find the reserves to enthuse over Jay’s truck and give his supposedly much valued gay eye for fashion on Maddy’s new clothes. He lived in hoodies and sweats, but she chose to overlook that.

As much as he loved his family, it was exhausting and they were barely out of the door before he was cosying up on the couch for a nap. It didn’t matter that usually he went up to his bed for his afternoon sleep, his whole schedule was blown for the day, and he didn’t particularly care. The sofa was soft and pillows plentiful, and his parents were close by.

When he woke they were sharing Dad’s armchair, Mom on his lap. In his groggy tired confusion, he first thought that she was crying, but after a few blinks he realised they were whispering to each other with occasional laughs, that, in their attempts to keep silent, were only made funnier. They looked happy together.

They had always been a good couple. Not necessarily a romantic couple, or a couple so intensely in love that they were sickeningly sweet, or embarrassing to a young child. They were honest with each other, sometimes to the border of cruelty when it came to opinions on cooking or outfits, and they couldn’t always see eye to eye when it came to raising their children, especially Tyler with his little ‘quirks’. But they were a good couple because, ultimately, they cared for the other immensely, and that was what Tyler hoped he’d find in a future relationship. It was what he hoped he had with Josh, but could only speak for his own affection.

“Oh hey poppet, you waking up?” Mom noticed him with a fond smile.  
“Mmm, how long, how long was I asleep?” He sat up slowly, rubbing his eye with a balled fist as she came over to sit by his side.  
“3 and a bit hours.” Dad looked at his watch, then also stood up and walked across to sit on the other side of him, his two parents like bookends, keeping him up and strong.

“Did, um, did they get back safe? To Granny’s?”  
“Yep, already been sent photos of them eating Christmas dinner together.”  
“Zack?”  
“Calm. Better.” Dad told him with a slow nod.  
“We’re working together to draft an email to his school pastoral centre to see if the team there can offer him any help, and put him in touch with a therapist. If not, we looked online and found a therapist on our own who is only a 10 minute cycle from his house.”  
“And he’s agreed to that?”  
“He’s agreed to give it a shot, yeah,”  
“Thanks to you kiddo, you really helped him out today, and we’re both so grateful. We know he’s been struggling, but he doesn’t often open up so it’s hard for us to gauge what’s wrong and what we need to do to support him. You did us all a great service today, and I know your brother is going to start feeling volumes better thanks to this.” Dad said warmly, and Tyler smiled tiredly.  
“Hopefully.”

“It’s nearly supper time, do you want me to put something on? Or do you need a bit longer to acclimatise to being awake before you build an appetite?”  
“Not hungry,” he yawned.  
“Okay,” Mom stroked his hair back, seemingly one of her favourite things to do.

“I wanna be honest Ty, I have a secret, can I tell you?”  
“Yeh,” Tyler was curious.  
“When I saw Josh the other day, he gave me a Christmas card to take to Cygnet for you. It’s in my purse.”  
“Oh,”  
“He asked me for permission before he wrote it, and I said I thought it would be okay but let him know that you find him quite an emotional topic to discuss and it would be preferable if he could keep it quite reserved and positive. I haven’t read it, but I trust he listened to my requests. Baring that in mind, it could still be quite upsetting for you, or it might not mean anything, I don’t know-“  
“No it’ll mean something.”  
“Okay.” Mom took that on board. “It’s been a long day, off schedule, doing things that are no doubt making those cogs whir away in that smart lil brain of yours, and I’m conscious we don’t ask too much of you. But simultaneously, it’s Christmas, it could make you feel better in fact, and ultimately it’s your choice.”  
“Remember that the card will still be here tomorrow if the rest of the day is earmarked for recuperation.” Dad made a good point, but Tyler’s mind was made.

“I’d like to have it. Please.”  
“Sure?”  
“I’m sure.”  
“Alright lovebug, give me a second.” Mom shuffled off the couch and left the room in pursuit of her handbag, whilst Tyler stayed with Dad, who was watching over him proudly.

“Thanks for today Ty, it’s given us all the boost we needed. The kids were getting homesick but now they’re excited to give you the space you need to get better and be able to play for even longer - or hangout, whatever you youngsters call it. Your mom and I, it’s been really useful for us to see what you’re capable of under the right conditions, and I think, with your consent of course, we might try and amp your schedule up gradually so that we can build your tolerance for challenges, and, you know, give you a better quality of life. And as for Zack, I think he’s needed today for a long time.”

“Do, um, do you think he’ll go through with it? Therapy?”  
“I hope so. If not, we’ll just turn it into a competition, you know how competitive he gets. We’ll just say that you’ve had 200 sessions or whatever, so he can’t give up after 3 because that means you’ve won.” Dad joked, but noticed Tyler was more genuinely concerned. “We’ll make sure he gets the help he needs. If that means me driving up to Michigan to take him each week then that’s what we’ll do. He’s not coping right now, we’ll make sure we’re doing everything we can to ensure he is in the future. And maybe we need to pull him out of school for the rest of the year, but I’m not going to get trigger happy because I know how determined he is to graduate, so I’m going to give him a few weeks to see how therapy is helping, and then we’ll reevaluate and I’ll make sure the right thing is done.”  
“Thanks Dad,”

Mom came back in, again with her small smile creeping up her cheeks, carrying an envelope in two hands.

“Alright, you know how it works, if it’s too much then put it down and walk away.”  
“I know,” Tyler delicately took the envelope from her, tears already pooling along his lash lines as he looked at the handwriting on the front.

TYLER

All caps, just how Josh always wrote in high school, and why Mrs Piper always used to give him joking scolds that he needed to remember his cursive. Josh tried to write in lowercase, but it didn’t look like Josh. This looked like Josh.

“Do you want Momma to open it for you?”  
“I, I, I can do it.” Tyler flipped it over carefully and ran his short nail under the glue that wasn’t stuck down very well. The paper didn’t rip and Tyler would be lying if he said it wasn’t satisfying.

He pulled the card out and realised it was thick, beefed up by several photographs inside. Mom also noticed and immediately took them out and put them beside her, face down.

“I didn’t know he included them, it’s a big challenge, we know that last time you looked at photos on his Instagram, it triggered an incident the next day. Let’s focus on the card, and if we think it’s a good idea then maybe we look at photos. Fair?”  
“Fair.” He agreed with her, trying to ignore his curiosity.

The front of the square card was a greyscale picture of a swan on a calm lake which was surrounded by beautiful snowy banks and trees, a gentle wake behind him. The image was simple, bordered by a thick white square and a light dusting of white glitter, and something about the distinctive silhouette of the graceful animal was enticing.

“Do you know what a swan is Tyler?”  
“A swan? Yeah?” He was confused by his mother’s cryptic question.  
“It’s a grown up cygnet.” She told him and he almost flinched at the word, reminding him of his prison for 14 months. “A cygnet is grey, with a dark beak, and its downy fur isn’t truly waterproof, and they’re very vulnerable. But look what they become, hey? Such a magnificent creature. Beautiful, and elegant, and strong.”  
“Is it a metaphor? For me?” He tried to understand her line of fire.  
“It could be?”  
“Mom,” Tyler laughed a little.  
“It’s a nice thought though, of Josh’s, hey?”  
“Josh, he, he doesn’t think like that. He just likes swans because he thinks their feet are so dumb, kicking away under the water.”  
“Oh,” she laughed at herself too, but nonetheless Tyler appreciated what she was trying to do for him.

He opened the card and both Mom and Dad went silent, giving him time to read and process the message at his own pace.

Dear Tyler,

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I hope you’re well, your mom told me you’re making a lot of progress at the moment and I’m so pleased to hear that.

I’m currently living with two roommates here in Columbus, Jesse and Andrew, and I’m studying law and really enjoying my course. Last week we staged a mock trial and I got to be chief timekeeper - lucky me!

I’ve adopted a kitty, she’s called Dr Doctor and you would love her. I included a photograph of her, alongside a few others to show you what else I’ve been getting up to out here. Can’t wait for the day you’re discharged and we can start going on these adventures together.

Keep up the good work and know that I’m thinking of you always,  
Josh

“Can I see the pictures please?”  
“Tyler, let’s think about this.” Dad warned.  
“Please.”  
“Your dad’s right, we have to decide whether this is sensible.”  
“It is sensible, I’m okay, please.” Tyler rushed, reaching out for them desperately.  
“No Tyler Robert. Snatching is not okay, it’s a sign you’re overwhelmed and distressed, and it’s rude. Come on honey, take a breath, use your words to convince us you’re ready, or explain what’s going on in your head.”

Tyler sucked in a deep breath and decided to play by their rules, knowing if he didn’t then he’d be labelled as not ready.

“I am really grateful for this card from Josh, it means a lot that he took the time to write it, and it makes me happy to know that he’s thinking of me too. But it feels like, maybe because of Mom’s guidance, maybe his own caution, that it’s a bit restricted and refined. It’s not completely him. Whereas in a photo, he can’t hide the sides of him that I adore so completely. And yes, I’m aware of your concerns about it triggering me, to which I respond that Josh always has been the most calming influence on my life.”  
“But before-“  
“Before was different, before I was already overwhelmed with anxiety and it was the final straw.”  
“How do you know this won’t trigger you again?”  
“How do you know it will?”

“Alright guys, let’s remember that we’re all on the same team and we have the same objective - to keep Tyler safe. This doesn’t have to be a matter that develops into an argument just because you disagree.” Dad calmed the tone down smoothly. “How about Mom or I looks first, just to make sure they’re all safe and appropriate, and then we’ll let you look at one and if you can manage, we’ll think about others.”  
“Appropriate? Wh-what do you mean by appropriate? Josh wouldn’t do anything inappropriate.” Tyler asked quietly.  
“I don’t mean improper, just something more likely to upset you, such as old photos of you two together, or of Debby for example,”  
“Yeh,” he nodded immediately. “Yeh, can you do that please, I don’t want to look at those kinds of pictures.”  
“Course baby,” Mom smiled then lifted the photos back up and glanced at each with a brief but intense inspection.

Tyler looked away on purpose, not wanting to catch glimpse of anything that would start a spiral. Instead he focused on his father’s wedding ring, and the anticipation of seeing happy photos of his Josh.

“These are all fine darling, quite sweet really.”  
“Is there one he’ll find easy do you reckon?” Dad asked.  
“How about this one of Dr Doctor?”  
“His cat?”  
“Yeah,” Mom nodded, “how does that sound?”  
“Nice,” Tyler shrugged, trying to subdue his eagerness, but Mom smiled knowingly and passed it across.

The cat was only a young kitten. Tyler didn’t know much about the species but she looked young and slim, none of the distinctive stockiness he’d seen in the Garfield comics. She was a tabby cat and had gorgeous defined stripes and a sweet red collar with an engraved name tag, but Tyler’s eyes quickly fell to the arm reaching out to stroke under her chin. It was Josh’s arm, and peaking out from under his sleeve was a mix of green and brown tones.

“Did he get a tattoo?”  
“Yes he did honey, a big tree with a galaxy on his shoulder and a red sky to patch some of the gaps. It’s a, uh, oh what do you call it...”  
“A sleeve?”  
“Yeh, a sleeve. It’s stunning. You know I’m not one for tattoos, but it really is stunning.”  
“It took him quite a while, maybe 4 sessions over the last year?” Dad contributed.  
“What does it mean? What does it symbolise?”  
“He hasn’t shared with me, I think it’s quite personal.” Mom explained and Tyler nodded.

“Are there any where you can see it clearly?”  
“Hmmm, how about this one?” He was given another, and this time a smile crept on his face.

Josh had just finished some kind of running race, evident from the crowds of people in the background, the number pinned to his sweaty shirt, and the medal hung around his neck. Earphones dangled abandoned as he had one hand holding the medallion to his lips and the other arm flung in the air in victorious celebration, displaying the array of colours in their full glory.

“I think he’s written on the back,” Dad noticed and he flipped it over.

Me in June, finishing my first 10k race in 51:39. I got sponsored and raised $145 for a local mental health charity. Not bad considering all my friends are broke students!

“We sponsored him a hundred in half a dozen anonymous instalments on his JustGiving page if I remember rightly.” His father chuckled, not in a mocking way, just as a father would laugh with his son, and Tyler smiled.  
“Another?” Mom offered and he nodded, accepting a third photograph from her.

Josh was stood with two other men his age, one with short back and sides and the other with long hair down to his shoulders and beyond. They were grinning and Josh had his arms round both of them whilst the short haired guy had his thumb up to accompany his grin.

“That’s Andrew, who he met at law school, and that’s Jesse from high school. I originally just got him to team up with Jesse to afford rent, but Andrew was living with his parents and wanted a bit of freedom, so he also moved in not long afterwards.” Mom supplied further details. All the back of the photo said was My roommates in our apartment!, so Tyler appreciated her divulging.

“They’re good kids, really they are. Think Josh finds it a little tricky that they’ve now become besties and he slightly plays second fiddle to them, but that’s only because they like going out at the weekends and he doesn’t drink.”  
“But that doesn’t change the fact they’re really good to him Tyler, I mean Andrew’s had him round today for Christmas dinner. They watch out for him, and they laugh a lot together, and they take good care of him.”  
“And they know? About Debby, and his parents? A-and me?” Tyler asked quietly.  
“They definitely know about Debby, they know roughly about his parents and their nature, and they know you’ve spent time in the hospital yeah. When I go round they always think to ask me how you are.”  
“Oh,”  
“He got lucky with them.”  
“For sure.” Dad agreed.

Tyler liked the picture, he liked the idea of Josh being surrounded by two friends who ensured he was never lonely. Loneliness was scary, and spending time with his family over the past few weeks hadn’t yet rid him of the lingering sensation which he hoped Josh was not familiar with.

“Then this is the last one poppet,” Mom handed over a final photograph, again Josh’s hair matted with sweat, but this time from what looked like boxing rather than running. He had his hands wrapped up in the protective colourful tape bandage thing Tyler had seen before, and he was smiling, leaning against the ring’s platform with two guys that he didn’t recognise. To find out who they were, Tyler flipped the picture over and read his handwriting one last time.

Went to a boxing class with some guys I was working on a group project with, felt really cool until some actual boxers turned up and then I swiftly ran away and haven’t been back since - but the picture got me some street cred on instagram :P

“He’s funny,” Tyler whispered, looking at the photo again, running his thumb over the shiny surface.  
“He’s got a good sense of humour,” Mom agreed with a subtle nod.  
“You went to see, oh who was it.. that comedian? For his birthday?” Dad frowned as he tried to find the memory.  
“Connor Blake?” Tyler suggested, “he was his favourite comedian in high school. He had the joke about the office giraffe, Josh used to watch it on YouTube all the time, used to cheer him up when he was feeling down. I remember so clearly.”  
“Connor Blake, that’s the one,” Mom nodded. “We all went, Josh and Maddy and Zack and me. Josh was laughing so hard he was actually crying. It was a good night.”

“Does, um, I, does he ever talk about me?” Tyler asked the question that had been burning away at his insides.  
“All the time.” Dad summarised with a definite nod of the head.  
“He always asks how you are, always always, and he wants to know the details, he doesn’t like when I brush the question off. If you’re struggling, he wants to know how bad, if you’re doing well, he wants to know every single detail of your accomplishments.”  
“And he’s so busy all the time, what with school, but I’ve been round to his place a few times with your mother and every time he has a new book on mental illness on his shelf, and they all look read to me.”  
“Oh yes, he does a lot of research, he’s always asking me for suggestions or sending me links to studies he found interesting,”  
“Questions too, so many questions, not just about you but about OCD in general, and schizoaffective disorder, and the nature of mental illnesses, and all sorts. He asks us, and if we don’t know, he asks us to ask your doctors.” Dad contributed.

“He brings up memories sometimes. I think he finds it quite hard, delving back into that part of his mind, just because there are so many memories of his parents and of Debby, it can painful, but every now and then he’ll come out with something. Maybe it would be a comment about how you liked the movie we were watching together, or how a meal would remind him of a date you went on, and occasionally he talks about the things that you two used to talk about.”  
“He has some of your conversations memorised, he can recite them just like that.” His father backed up Mom’s story, and Tyler felt himself getting a little emotional, a little moved by the conversation, a little heartache over the lost love.

“I can do the same.” He whispered discretely. “I, when I feel lonely, I replay conversations in my head. It makes me feel close to him.”

“Do you feel lonely very often baby?”  
“Increasingly so,” Tyler admitted, flicking away a stray tear, scared it might damage the four photographs he cradled in his lap.  
“You’ve got us kiddo, we’re always here to chat, or even just sit with you, and you’ve got your siblings, especially now you’re closer with Zack again. It’ll be nice to have him in your corner, hey?”  
“And one day, not anytime soon, but one day we’ll allow Josh back into your life too, yeh? You just need to keep working so you’re well enough,”

“Do, um, do y-you think he’ll want me?”  
“I think you’ve both been through a lot these past few years, and it has changed you both, so I won’t say with complete certainty that you’ll be able to slip right back into the same sort of relationship you had before. It seems logical to me, you’re different people and you might not feel the same way. But I think it’s so incredibly obvious how much you care about each other, so even if you’re no longer suited to being a couple, I definitely think you’ll make amazing friends to each other. I think he wants you in his life just as much as you want him in yours, and I think it would be unfair, cruel in fact, for us to stop that happening. We need to go about this responsibly, the last thing anybody wants is a relapse, but I think we can figure out a way to gradually reintegrate him into your life if that’s what you want.”  
“I want it more than anything,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that we’re done! Lemme know what you liked about this fic, what you didn’t love so much, and what else you’d like to see from me. 
> 
> I’m going to take a little break from posting now, maybe for a month? Just to focus on my mental health and work on getting lots of chapters written so the gaps between them aren’t as long. 
> 
> I’m working on finishing the wheelchair fic, updates for the DID sequel, an unseen installation about Josh’s internalised homophobia, and a full length fic about chronic illness. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, this update actually contains my millionth word posted to this site, and I’m so unbelievably proud of myself for all the effort I’ve put into this universe and all the other works I’ve created in spite of the crap my poor mental health has put me through. I love and appreciate you all, Couldn’t have stayed motivated without your support 
> 
> Maisie xx


End file.
